Crush Depth
by AlexG
Summary: 6th in the series. The Doctor told her he can change his face... what else changes with it? The Doctor definitely doesn't seem like he's "all there" anymore, so who's going to stop the crew of a nuclear submarine from opening a potentially dangerous gateway deep beneath the ocean? And what does all that have to do with the happenings on a desert planet a million light years away?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Wow, the 6th installment already! I can hardly believe it myself. Either this story or the next one will be what I'm publishing during the 50th anniversary, a prospect which is exciting in its own right! This first chapter throws a major curveball that I know some people might be turned off by... just stick with me! Things are not always as they seem :) .**

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Outside the applause was still going full swing. It hadn't died down in the slightest, everyone watching the joyful reunion. Quinn stood just inside the doors of the TARDIS while the Doctor started turning knobs and preparing to take them somewhere, once again.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"The song is," he replied.

"The _song_ is wrong? That's what's got you so upset?"

"It's not wrong because it's bad," he said. "It's wrong because it shouldn't be here!" He flipped a lever and the TARDIS started its characteristic wheezing as they left the stage and went somewhere else. She briefly imagined Robert and Howard and the rest trying to answer the question of how they made that funny blue box appear out of nowhere with so many people inside it, but the Doctor's panic was rubbing off on her, leaving all other thoughts behind.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said. "How can it not belong? I don't know what your beef is. In fact I don't even know what it... said," she muttered the last words, understanding dawning on her. Why hadn't the TARDIS translated the song into English for her?

"Where did it come from, I wonder? How did it get here?"

Quinn knew the answer to that. "He said he heard it in a dream," she said. "I just thought it was a nice story when he told me but..."

"It was a message," the Doctor finished.

"Someone sent Robert a message so he could put it in his play?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No. Someone send me a message. Robert was just the relay."

Quinn wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "To you?"

"Right."

"But the play was already written and finished before we got here. That would have been months ago that he dreamed it up. How do you know it was for you?"

"It didn't translate," he said.

"So what does that mean? Maybe there wasn't anything to translate. Maybe it was just gibberish."

"No, you don't understand. It didn't translate, but I understood it, just fine."

"What do you mean?"

"The song, it wasn't a song at all. It was a coded message, in a language long, long dead."

"What language," she asked, but her breath caught in her throat because she was already pretty sure she knew the answer.

"The language of my people, of Gallifrey. That was old high Gallifreyan, a language nobody but me should know in the whole wide universe."

"Does that mean there's another Time Lord somewhere?" she asked. "What did it say?"

"The lyrics weren't words," he said. "They were data. Coded of course but most definitely spatio-temporal coordinates - a where and a when."

"So what do we do?" Quinn asked, worry gnawing at the pit of her stomach for some reason she didn't fully comprehend on a conscious level. "How do we get away?"

"Get away?" The Doctor said, smiling maniacally. "Quinn Fabray, sometimes I don't think you know me at all."

"Don't play Casanova with me," she demanded. "I can see right through you. This screams 'trap' to me and if _I_ pieced it together, I'm sure you did, too."

"Yes, but what kind of trap? You must admit, as far as bait goes, this is pretty irresistible."

"Do you think it could be another Time Lord?"

"Impossible," he said, shaking his head resolutely.

"But... there must have been _someone_," she said. "Maybe someone was away from the planet when it happened or-"

"I said no," he said, and his tone said the conversation was closed.

She came up to stand next to him, and quietly asked, "Then who else would know your peoples' language?"

"We'll find out soon enough," he said, and the TARDIS gave a resounding clang. "We've landed."

He made for the door, and she was right behind him, when he turned around. "No. Not this time. I need you in here."

"If there's something dangerous out there then I'm going to help you with it!" she said. "That's how this thing works," she made a 'back-and-forth' gesture between the two of them with her hands. "You support me, I support you. We face things together."

"And I would love your support," he said, looking into her eyes intently. "Really, I would, trust me."

"Great! Problem solved," she said. "Let's go. Allon-"

He held up a finger to stop her. "I'd love it, but I'll have to do without it."

"I can take care of myself," she said. "I don't need you to protect me."

"No, you don't," he agreed. "But that's not what this is about. Whoever called us here knows my language. Who knows what else they might know? If I don't come back within an hour, I need you to get the TARDIS out of here. It's the last TARDIS in the universe, I can't let it get into the wrong hands." He showed her a control on the console next to him. "This one is the fast return switch," he said. "It'll take you to the last place the TARDIS went, which is the theater. We've got friends there, we've just seen to that. Talk to Captain Sanders, tell him I wanted you looked after as thanks for what we did for them, and take care of your daughter."

"Doctor..." she said, grasping one of his hands. He'd never talked about the possibility of not being around anymore, not seriously like this anyway. They didn't even know what they were - or rather he was - walking into, but he was as good as saying his goodbyes, like death was a sure thing. "No, Doctor, don't go. Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me, not you too..." she stammered, holding his hand to her heart with both of hers.

"Quinn, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I have to find out. I _have _to." There was something beyond the fear in his eyes... was it hope? Anticipation? Whatever was waiting out there might be terrible... but maybe it was wonderful instead. Maybe it was the trap they feared... maybe it was some lost remnant of home. And she couldn't keep him from it.

She settled for pulling him into a tight embrace, squeezing him as tight as she could. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for everything you've done for me."

"Thank _you_," he said. "For the same." They stayed that way for a minute, then he pulled away from the embrace. Time to go. "I'm locking the doors down," he said. "The TARDIS knows who it can let in. You'll be safe in here."

She nodded. "Be safe out _there_." she said.

"I will," he replied simply, then he turned to the door and opened it, looking out. A red, dusty sort of light spilled in as he gazed out at the landscape, then stepped through the door and closed it behind him.

It seemed darker in the console room than it had whenever else she'd been here. She hadn't been alone in here since that first morning, waking up in the bedroom in the back after she'd broken up with Finn. By then she had only seen a few rooms. Now that she'd seen how much of a world there was in here, it seemed utterly desolate and lonely to be here without the Doctor.

She sat down on the bench next to the console and absentmindedly rubbed her stomach. "It's okay little one," she said. "He'll be back. He'll be fine. Just you wait and see."

She didn't know how long she had sat there, but it wasn't long, no more than fifteen minutes, when she heard the commotion outside. It sounded like shouting, and then there was a tremendous crash against the doors, like a body hurling itself against the Police Box facade, that nearly made her jump out of her skin. She looked to the doors, watching an eerily bright yellow light shimmer through the frosted glass windows. It lit the whole console room, casting an almost blinding light through the room. Then all at once it was gone, just as quick as it had come. There were a few moments of interminable silence, then she heard the key start to shake and rattle in the lock.

The door opened and he spun around, slamming it closed and leaning against it, breath ragged and shaky. He was hunched over, with both his hands over his head and braced against the door, like he was trying to keep it closed by sheer force of will more than by his leaning on it. She couldn't see anything but his large brown coat hanging off him like a coat hanger.

"Doctor!" she called, but he waved back dismissively, a _keep back_ gesture, without turning to look at her.

She skidded to a stop after just a couple of steps. He took a deep ragged breath and said, "Fast return! Go!" around a series of deep coughs that reduced his voice to a gravelly roar.

She slammed her hand down on the switch and the central column started to move as the ship shuddered into motion as usual. He lost his balance as the ship pitched, and landed on his back, still coughing up a fit. She gave him a quick look over. Same brown coat, same pinstriped suit, same tie and sneakers, but when she looked at his face...

The man lying on the floor of the TARDIS was wearing all the right clothes, but didn't look right himself. His nose was flatter, his eyes wider apart, and most of all, he had a shock of red hair where the brown spiky mess should have been.

She stopped dead in her tracks, mouth hanging open as she stared at him and gasped. "What... who..."

He opened his eyes with great effort, still looking like he was in pain and possibly a bit dazed, but when he saw her surprised expression he took a deep breath and rolled onto his side, leaning up on one elbow to get a better look at her. "Quinn," he said. "It's me. It's the Doctor, it's me." He was seized by another coughing fit, but in and around the heaving spasms he managed to choke out the words, "I've regenerated."

DAVID TENNANT

DIANNA AGRON

DOCTOR WHO

CRUSH DEPTH


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Heh heh heh. Did you like that last chapter, all? I feel evil sometimes. I've seen some theories... any others? I like to know what people are thinking! I see several people have followed either myself or the story... I'd love to hear what you folks are thinking as well!**

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Quinn just stood there next to the console, staring at him, this man on the floor the TARDIS. Some guy, that's who this was. Not the Doctor, not her Doctor. She'd had an inkling that something like this could happen. He'd shown her all his faces the first night they talked - _really _talked anyway. But then here it was, it had happened, there was someone else in front of her, some stranger, who said he knew her. She didn't know what to say, her mind was running in circles, barely able to comprehend what was going on around her. She leaned heavily against one of the coral support beams for support, feeling almost sure that if she didn't, her knees were going to give out and she'd crash to the floor.

_He can't be but he is but he's not but he must be but he can't be but he is but he's not but he must be but he can't be but he is but he's not but he must be but he can't..._

She took a deep breath trying to force herself to calm down but only managing to start to shudder. Finally, with great force of will she stammered out, "D-Doctor?"

His breath was also hurried and ragged. He forced himself into a kneeling position, then dragged himself up by the railing next to him. Putting one tentative foot in front of the other, he made his way to the console and stared at it at a loss for words for a moment, before he hunched over and twisted a glowing crystalline ball. "Holding pattern, better. I need more time..."

"Time for what?" she asked as he staggered again, seeming to lose his balance.

He turned around to face her and she could see he'd broken out in a heavy sweat, his whole body shaking as he struggled to remain upright. "I... can't... I need to..." His eyes darted around the TARDIS nervously, as if they couldn't stay still no matter what. Then he fixed her with a wide-eyed stare and whimpered out, "Help me!" And with that, he finally collapsed entirely, unconscious.

She was still unsure of herself, and him, but it must have been an automatic reaction (or worse, the terrifying thought reared its head for a split second, maternal instinct) because as soon as he went down, she was on her knees by his side checking for his breath. She felt his wrist for a pulse and was relieved to find one, a double rhythm pulsing under her fingers, _bup bup bup bup, bup bup bup bup_. Something felt wrong, though...

She realized what it was right away. His skin was warm - warmer than she'd ever felt it. He didn't feel feverish by human standards, but every time she'd ever held his hand or brushed his cheek before, he'd felt startlingly cool to the touch. By comparison, he was burning up. She sighed, looking at his prone form. She couldn't just leave him here.

It was an arduous process, a lot more difficult than she'd ever admit, to get him dragged back into one of the rooms. She didn't know which one was his, he'd never said, so she was forced to pick one at random and put him in there. He was certainly lanky enough - well, he had been, now he seemed a little thicker about the chest - but he was certainly heavy, and trying to lift all his dead weight would have been difficult even if she wasn't awkwardly carrying around several extra pounds, but she finally managed to get him onto his back and loop her arms around under his shoulders. That way she could lift a bit and drag him along, letting his trainers slide across the floor. They seemed to be threatening to pop off at any moment... it was like they didn't fit as well as they once had. Thankfully, she finally got where she was going.

The door behind her opened on its own, fortunately enough, and with a great effort she hurled him up so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, then awkwardly laid him down on his back. From here it was easy, swinging his legs up onto the bed. She removed his sneakers - it seemed the right thing to do, rather than leave them on the bed to scuff it up. They were covered in a copper-tinged ruddy dust still, probably from the surface of the planet he'd stepped out onto.

Hey lay there in an awkward crumpled mess, arms bent at an awkward angle, looking like he'd just been in an accident of some kind the way he was all knotted up. She made an effort to get him to a point where he was at least lying comfortably, arms at his sides and not crossed over his chest because he looked too much like he'd been prepared for burial if she did that. She kept checking him over to be sure he was still breathing, always reassured that he was. After a few minutes she went into the adjoining bathroom and got a cloth wet with cold water, which she placed on his forehead because, wasn't that what you were supposed to do for a feverish person? Really any sort of trauma called for a cool cloth to the forehead, she thought, if movies were anything to go by.

She hated feeling so helpless as she watched his unconscious breathing. Was this normal? She had no idea if it was, no way to tell if this was supposed to be happening or if something terrible was going on. He could be dying right now and she'd never know it, never be able to help him or find anyone who could... and while she didn't want to be selfish while he lay there possibly dying, the thought of spending the rest of her natural life trapped aboard the TARDIS without a soul to talk to wasnt exactly a concept she looked forward to either. They hadn't landed back at the theater like she thought they might have. The Doctor... the Stranger who was the Doctor... had said something about a holding pattern. What if this was it, for the rest of her life, and her daughter's?

She refused to wring her hands in worry. She needed to be active, to be doing something to help him or herself. Hand wringing accomplished nothing, helped nobody, was just worrying for worrying's sake. It was all her mother had done while her father had thrown her out of her home, and she would _not_ let that become her reaction to _anything_.

He was still lying flat on his back, unconscious, but it seemed like his breathing was slowing. Again, was this good or bad? She took his still-warm hand and held it against her cheek. "Doctor... Doctor it's me. It's Quinn Fabray. I need..." she stifled a sob, trying to be strong for him if somehow, by some miracle, he could hear her in his present state. "I need you to wake up," she said, sniffling. "I need you to wake up and be okay and alive. Doctor, I need you, and I told you not to go out there alone... please. You have to be alright, you have to. We need you. Please." He didn't respond in any way, just lay there unmoving, oblivious to everything. "Please, Lord," she prayed, closing her eyes as she clasped his hand in both of hers. "My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber. The sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm — he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore." It was a verse she'd been made to memorize years ago. At the time it had never seemed important to memorize anything she could just look up, but she was so grateful now. "Please, God, help him..."

"Ooh," he groaned.

"What?" She looked at him, hopefully. He was starting to stir, ever so slightly.

"Ooooooh," he replied again, louder than a moment before.

"Doctor, are you awake?"

He took a few deep breaths, then propped himself up his elbows. "Mmm." He blinked slowly like he was trying to clear the fog in his mind. "Hi," he finally said, forcing his eyes to focus on her, and looking her over with - what was that look? It seemed almost like... apprehension. Fear, even. "Could I have my... uh..."

He glanced down at his right hand, which she realized she was still clutching, and she let go of it like it was a hot potato. He just kept on looking at her so she mustered up her courage and asked, "Doctor? Is that... is that really you?"

"It's me," he said. "It really is me."

"What happened?"

"I told you, I regenerated."

"No, I mean... out there, on the planet, what happened to you?"

"It was a trap," he said. "Just like you said it was, I should have listened to you." He flashed her a weak smile. "The whole planet's flooded with Chalarial Ephedrazine. It's absolutely lethal to Time Lord physiology. I was making my way towards a structure of some kind and I would have collapsed out there in the desert if I hadn't turned back for something."

"What'd you come back for?"

"You," he said. "I decided I wanted you along with me, whatever it was out there, and as it happened I was just a few steps away from the TARDIS when I started to feel the effects." She couldn't suppress the hint of a smile that crossed her features at that - he'd come back for her, he wanted her with him, whatever it was he had to face, and it had saved his life... but the reality of the situation soon squashed that feeling.

"So who did it?"

"I don't know," he said. "One of my enemies, probably. I've got a couple, you know."

"This seems like a really complicated way to kill someone," she said.

"Yes, but people have tried before, and it doesn't seem to stick," he said, giving her a wink.

"So what now? Do we track down whoever's responsible?"

"Nah," he said, slipping his shoes back on. "Whoever it is will probably find us, I expect, and they'll certainly be surprised when they do."

"So that's it? You come, get poisoned, and just leave?"

"Well I'm certainly not going back out there!" he said, his voice suddenly raised. "Sorry, sorry," he said when he saw her recoil at his temper. "Look, I'm a bit unstable at the moment. Give me a few hours, I'll be fine."

"You better be," she said. "This is kind of weird for me but..." She took a deep breath to compose herself, then reached out and clasped him in a tight hug. "I'm just glad I still have you," she said. He seemed unsure how to react but a few seconds later he returned her embrace.

"It's alright, I'm fine now," he said, then gently pulled away so he could stand up. "Now come on," he said, "let's go see what we're dealing with."

She thought he might have gone to the console room to release whatever holding pattern he'd put the TARDIS in, but he zigged when she expected he might have zagged and made his way to the wardrobe instead. "What do you think?" He asked. "A new look for the new look?" He took off the pinstriped jacket, tossing it to her, and kicked off the shoes right away, stopping to look himself over in the mirror. "Not bad at all if I do say so myself," he said, looking at his face from all angles. "Not as chiseled as I might have liked but I'll take it."

"And red hair," she said. "Congratulations."

"What for?"

"You told me, when you told me about re... what your people could do. You said you always wanted to be ginger."

"Did I? Yes, I suppose I did," he said, taking a moment to examine his hair. "Sorry. The old memories are all jumbled up. Now, about those clothes." He was like a cyclone tearing around the room, grabbing assorted clothing items and tossing them into a huge pile at the center of the room, sometimes leaning over the railing two levels up to drop another blazer onto the huge, crumpled pile. It was almost as tall as she was by the time he got back down to it.

"What do we do now?"

"Oh, shirt, shoes, trousers, whole nine yards."

"No I mean... the two of us. What now?"

"Well, what kind of question is that? Same as always," he said. "Places to go, things to see."

"So we just go on like nothing ever happened?"

"Pretty much," he said. "You and me, we're a team, aren't we?"

"Yeah..." It wasn't that she didn't want to stay, or that she wanted anything to change, it was just... it was like he wasn't even acknowledging what had happened. She wished there was someone else she could talk to about all this, someone who might know what she was thinking and feeling but there wasn't anyone. It was just her and him, and there wasn't anything she could do about it.

"Excellent!" he said. He reached into the pile and pulled something out, seemingly at random. A black suit, dark brown pants, and a striped tie completed the ensemble. "Unbelievable. They're still here."

"What's that?"

"Hm? Oh, I was just saying... I think these will do nicely, don't you?" He started to unbuckle his trousers and pull them off.

"Doctor!" she shrieked, turning her face away.

"Oh, alright alright," he said, gathering everything up and making his way behind a screen. "It's not as if its anything you haven't seen before."

"Of course I haven't!"

"Really?" he asked sarcastically, peeking around the side of the screen and glancing pointedly at her pregnant belly.

"Well, I mean, obviously then but... not _you_. And especially not new you."

"Got me there," he said. "Now, what do you think?" He stepped out from behind the screen again, wearing the suit now.

"It's good," she said. "Very handsome."

"Good, good. It was intended that way. Now, come on, we've got places to be."

He made his way back to the console room with Quinn following close behind, still clutching the pinstriped suit, and stood in front of the console, sizing it up before he touched anything. "It's amazing, isn't it, how things change? But then the more things change, the more they stay... the... same!" he said, punctuating each word with a button press and then holding onto the back railing as the ship shook and lurched. Quinn swallowed hard against a wave of nausea as the ship sped along down the vortex, not only pitching like it ways did but also vibrating, like it was threatening to come loose at the seams and disintegrate. "No, no, come on," he said, trying frantically to get control.

"Are you sure you're alright to drive?" she asked, wondering his his brain was all there.

"I'm fine, it's this TARDIS!" he yelled, smashing at controls. "It's not doing what it's told!"

The vibrating grew worse and worse still, and for the first time Quinn actually thought she might die before she reached a planet of unspeakable horror, this time just having some driving accident, when the whole capsule came to an abrupt stop, everything growing quiet.

"Finally we've arrived," he said, making his way to the doors and flinging them open. They were in some sort of round room, all enclosed in heavy metal. A door just outside the TARDIS threshold offered a viewport into another corridor, also metal.

"Arrived where?" Quinn asked stepping out after him.

"No, wait, this isn't right," he said. "This isn't where I told you to go! You stupid machine!"

He turned to storm back into the TARDIS but the Police Box doors slammed shut in his face. Quinn turned around in surprise and tried the door; it wouldn't budge. "It's stuck!" she said, fishing the key out from the chain around her neck. She was just about to stick it in the lock when a noise made her freeze up completely.

"What is that?" the Doctor asked.

"You're the one who's supposed to be able to tell me," she said. There was a little hiss and a valve in the top of the room opened up. A moment later, cold water started to pour in through the hole, immediately causing a puddle to form on the floor next to them.

"No, no, no, this isn't good," the Doctor said, shoving against the Police Box doors with his shoulders, trying to force them open. "Come on you worthless thing, open up!" The water was rising rapidly, it was up to their ankles already. Quinn had the key in the lock and was turning it back and forth to no avail.

"Come on, come on," the Doctor yelled, "we're going to drown! Get it open!"

"I'm trying," she said. "It's no good!"

He tried shoving the door open a few more times, then turned to the other door instead, the one leading out into the hallway. There was a large lever attached to a locking bolt on the door but it didn't seem to be budging either, as the water rose up to their knees. "This way's no good either, it's locked!" he said.

"Well unlock it, then!"

"I'm trying!" he said.

"Use the sonic then!"

"Do what?"

She made an annoyed growl at the back of her throat as she unfolded the jacket she was still carrying, reaching into the inside pocket. "The sonic screwdriver," she said, thrusting the device at him and going back to work on the TARDIS lock. A rivulet of the water trickled down her hair and into her mouth and she spat it out. _Salty_, she thought. "The ocean..." she muttered, but he didn't seem to hear her.

He pointed the sonic at the lock and pressed the button, rewarded with a satisfying clunk as the door finally unlocked. He shoved at it with all his might and it opened a crack for just a moment, then started pushing back, an automated servo pushing against him to keep the door closed.

"It's no good, I can't budge it on my own," he said. "Help me!"

The water was waist high now, and they shoved with all their might. Soon they'd start to float, and then there'd be no way to get enough traction. "Together," she said, "on the count of three. One, two, _three_!"

The two of them pushed with all their might, and once they had the door opened enough they both tumbled through onto the cold metal deck plating as the door slammed itself shut behind them, almost taking Quinn's foot off in the process. A lot of the water cascaded out after them, drenching them both in the cold wetness. Coughing and sputtering, Quinn stood up and peered through the tiny viewport; already the water was rising again, and the TARDIS was almost completely submerged. In another few seconds, it would be completely under water.

"Now what?" she asked, leaning her head against the glass and peering in at it. After a moment the adrenaline started to wear off, and she shrugged the old pinstriped jacket onto her shoulders. It was drenched too but at least it'd help trap some body heat. The Doctor was sitting on the ground, knees up in the air and head bowed dejectedly. She felt a flash of anger as she watched him, just sitting there, having a pity party. "Sonic screwdriver!" she said. "It opens doors. How basic is that?"

"I'm sorry!" he said, and it wasn't at all like she'd heard him say it a dozen times before. There was no sorrow, no remorse behind the statement. It was almost sarcastic, like he meant to absolve himself somehow rather than own up to nearly getting them drowned. "My whole head's a scrambled mess. I can't think straight. I just need..."

"You need to pull yourself together!" she said. "Why'd you bring us here anyway?"

"This isn't where we were supposed to end up," he said. "The TARDIS has a mind of its own sometimes."

"Tell me about it. So where are we?" He didn't move or meet her gaze, just kept sitting there with his chin tucked to his chest. "Let me guess. You don't know." No response. "Great," she said, turning away from him.

She was pacing up and down the corridor, not stopping to sit or even stand still, stamping her feet and rubbing her arms. "Must you do that?" he asked after a minute of her perpetual motion.

"I need to keep warm," she said. "For the baby. I'm soaked through."

His expression finally softened, and he stood up next to her, taking her into a quick embrace to try to keep her warmer. "You'll be alright."

"I'd better be," she said. He wasn't helping all that much. Whether it was from the water or just because he was finally recovering from his trauma a few hours before, he was cold now. It wasn't helping that it was so drafty in this corridor. "Come on, we'll get hypothermia. Let's find someplace to dry ourselv-"

They stopped dead in their tracks when they heard the noise, a clomping sound coming down the corridor towards them. There wasn't anywhere to go and hide, they were at a completely dead end. The sounds of the footsteps echoed all around, so it was almost impossible to tell where they were coming from but suddenly they became clearer and a figure rounded a corner, standing at the end of their little hallway.

"Hollins reporting in, captain," the man - older, a bit gruff and scraggly around the edges - said into a radio clipped to his shoulder. "We'll have the tank sorted out in a jiffy." He dropped a well-worn toolbag onto the deck plating and then, finally, looked up, to find the two of them standing there, still holding onto one another and sopping wet. "Hello, what's this?" he said, astonished to find them. "You're not meant to be here..."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This SHOULD have been yesterday's chapter but Comcast didn't think I deserved internet service yesterday night. Here it is today instead. The good news is today's a holiday, so there'll be another chapter before the day is out. That's two in one day. How'd we manage that?**

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"What the hell are you two doing here?" he asked, fortunately not pointing a gun at them for once, Quinn noticed. Still, he was intimidating as all get out, standing a little taller even than the Doctor.

"Ah. Yes," the Doctor said, stepping forward to greet him. "You'll have to excuse me, we seem to have got aboard by accident."

"By accident?!" Hollins exclaimed. "How can you... we're in the middle of the bleeding Atlantic!" He looked past them to the tank they'd just stumbled out of. "And what've you done to the bloody tank?" he asked. "It's only holding 60% capacity, so we're..." he'd shoved through them to look in the viewport, and he found the TARDIS there. "What the hell's that thing?"

"It's nothing, don't worry about it," the Doctor started, but the other man cut him off.

"You've filled the damn ballast tank with that... thing! What the hell do you think you're playing at?"

"Now if you'd just let me explain," the Doctor said, but again he was cut off as Hollins reached for his radio. "Captain, I'm at tank 7," he said. "We have a couple Passers," he said. "And they've jammed up the tank, that's why it's not taking water on like it should."

"Jammed it up how, lieutenant?" a weary female voice said over the radio.

"There's some sort of... crate in there, ma'am," he said. "Taking up all the space, displacing the water."

"Jettison it," the unseen captain said.

"No, no, wait!" the Doctor said, trying to interpose himself between Hollins and the control panel on the wall, but the technician roughly shoved him aside and threw a switch. The iris-like hatch on the floor of the tank opened up and with an almighty rush, the water and the TARDIS were gone. The sinking feeling in the pit of Quinn's stomach returned. Just like that, the TARDIS was gone. Completely and totally gone, utterly gone. What were they going to do without it?

The Doctor seemed to be on the same wavelength as he grabbed Hollins by the lapels and spun him around. "What the hell have you done?!" he asked. "Do you have any idea what you've just cost me?"

Hollins seemed completely unflappable as he straightened his coveralls, forcing the Doctor's hands away in one swift, simple motion. "What about the Passers?"

"We can't support anyone who isn't vital to the mission," the captain replied. "Toss them overboard."

"What?!" Quinn shrieked, regaining her focus in a heartbeat. "No, you can't do that!"

"Aye aye, cap'n," he said, ignoring her continued pleas. She spread her arms in a gesture of surrender as she backed away from him, causing the pinstriped jacket to open. Hollins was about to grab her forearm - he'd already roughly grabbed the Doctor's - when he caught a glimpse of her condition, and it at least gave him pause. He pursed his lips, seeming to mull it over a moment, then clicked the radio on again. "Uh, captain..."

"Yes, Mr. Hollins, what is it now?"

"About throwing these two overboard," he said.

"Yes?"

"I uh... I really don't feel I can," he stammered.

"Why not, lieutenant?"

"It's, uh... well... you really ought to see for yourself, ma'am."

There was a tense silence, then the curt reply, "Bring them to the control room. Captain out."

"This way you two," Hollins said, giving them a shove in the back to get them moving.

The Doctor wasn't saying anything, just marching along next to her with his hands jammed in his pockets. Normally he'd be talking up a storm right now; the loss of the TARDIS must have hit him pretty hard, especially considering everything else that had happened today.

She wished more than anything that she knew how to help him with all this, with all the change and loss and pain, but nothing seemed quite right. Really there was no way that she could relate to that kind of thing; what he was suffering was unique to the Time Lords. Swollen ankles and hormone rushes didn't even come close to touching this.

She turned her attention to trying to figure out where they were. Everywhere they went, every turn, it was all metallic corridors and doors. The saltwater earlier proved they were somewhere near the ocean, but whether they were on a ship, or an oil drilling platform, or even underwater completely she couldn't be sure.

It didn't take long to wind their way through the corridors up to the control room, wherever it was. Everything seemed to be on the same level at least - there were no stairs or lifts anywhere along on the journey. After a few more minutes of walking along the relatively straight corridor in silence, they opened a set of heavy sliding doors and stepped out into some sort of control room. It was cramped, not anything like the space station control rooms she'd seen. Every square inch of space was covered in screens and controls, and there were only a few stations for crew members around the perimeter of the room, not like the huge crews she'd run into before. None of the seats were occupied, however, except one - a woman she assumed was the captain. Directly above her chair was what looked like a periscope all folded up into the ceiling. Okay then. Submarine. She glanced around at the screens and her breath caught in her throat when she saw a map on one of the screens. There was no mistaking that configuration of continents for anything else, it was definitely Earth! She was back on her home planet. She had wondered when Hollins had said something about the Atlantic but that wasn't necessarily a unique name across the whole of time and space. Now she had absolute confirmation - she was back home again. There wasn't even time to process how she felt about that, though. The captain had heard them enter and she stood up right away.

She wasn't quite as tall as Quinn, but she had a commanding presence, and when she stared them down both she and the Doctor took an involuntary step back. She stood stiffly at attention before them, eyes piercing into them.

"Mr. Hollins," she said, not even acknowledging the two strangers standing in front of her. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me why you're having such trouble with basic orders?"

"It's the girl," he said, pointing to Quinn. "She's-"

"I can see exactly what she is, Mr. Hollins," the captain said sternly. "What I can't see is what bearing that has on you carrying out my orders." Quinn looked from the captain to the Doctor and back again, waiting for someone to say something. If nobody did anything, soon they were going to be tossed out to drown. "This mission is of the utmost secrecy," the captain continued. "You know that as well as I do. We can't jeopardize that for a couple of Passers."

Quinn grabbed the Doctor's hand and looked at him again, silently pleading with him to please do _something_. He seemed to be at a loss, so she tried to think of what he would have done in a situation like this if he'd still been the same man she knew this morning. Bracing herself and trying to show an outward courage she didn't feel, she said, "Won't it drive you crazy, though?"

The captain looked at her like she was amused that her little plaything had mustered up the courage to speak. Her smirk seemed to indicate her interest wasn't as strong as her desire to play with her prey like a cat with a mouse. "Won't _what _drive me crazy, dear?"

"You're underwater, a hundred miles away from anywhere and who knows how deep. And we just showed up here? How did we get on board?"

"You must have forced your way into the ballast tank."

"The two of us and a giant blue box? How did we do that without you knowing about it? You're pinging the whole area with sonar, right? How did we get anywhere close without you knowing about it?"

The captain still wore her smirk, it hadn't changed at all, but her eyes narrowed like she was at least considering what this girl had to say. "How indeed?" she asked. "But no matter. Soon the mission will be finished, and then we won't be needed here anyway."

"If you complete the mission, sure."

"And just what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well," Quinn said, in her best Doctor impression, "I suppose it means that if we got here undetected, there could be more of us. Maybe more coming. Maybe more aboard the sub already. How would you know? Unless, of course, you want to wait and find out where we came from."

The captain studied her for a few tense moments, then said, "Don't think for one second I don't know what you're doing."

"Well then, if you're completely confident," she said with mock sweetness and a mischievous smile.

She didn't get a chance to find out if her bluff worked or not, though, because the double doors behind them were opened again and two extremely excited young men entered, shoving their way through the tiny crowd blocking the entrance to sit at the stations on the perimeter without even noticing the two newcomers.

"What's going on? Cabin temperature's rising. Captain, have you seen this?" one of them asked.

"Not a good time boys," she said, aggravation obvious in her voice, but neither of them seemed to pick up on it, too immersed in their instruments to notice anything else.

"Phase variance is dropping again," the other one said, "lower than I've ever seen it."

"But low enough?" the other asked.

"It's too early to say. We could be looking at a spontaneous event but it's not very likely. The odds are 10,000 to 1 against."

"10,406," the other corrected."

"Still, never seen a drop like that before. We're at variance 1.3. 1.2. 1.1."

"We've never even got it below 1.5 before. Captain! I need your orders!"

She growled at the back of her throat then turned away, back to the controls she was watching over. "Mr. Hollins, hold them. Don't let them out of this room." She seemed to forget them almost immediately afterwards, focused entirely on the situation that had arisen. "Evan, what's the variance now?"

"Less than one!" The first one said excitedly. "It's less than one!"

"I need an exact reading mister!" she yelled, and he composed himself.

".98"

"Odell, is the rate of change constant?"

"Not quite, but close," the other man replied. "It's still decreasing steadily."

"At the current rate how long until a dimensional event?"

"Calculating, just a minute..." he said, working a pad and paper rather than a computer, Quinn noticed. "Factoring the current fluctuations in rate change, we could see an event in less than two minutes," he replied a few seconds later.

The captain took only a second to mull over the data she'd been provided, then she sprung into action, pulling the periscope down to her eye level and peering into it. "Action stations," she called, and the whole room illuminated red when she said it. "Lower the conduction barrier and get ready for final approach. Arm all offensive and defensive systems."

"Conduction barrier lowered," Odell said, followed by Evan.

"Offensive and defensive systems activated."

"Good. All stop, continue to monitor the variance. Once the level drops below oh-point-oh-nine, prepare for final action."

"Yes captain," the two men said in unison. Then there was silence, with the exception of Evan giving continued readings from his screen.

".89. .88. .87." He rattled off the numbers as calmly as if he were reading the football scores, but there was a tension and excitement in the air that was almost palpable.

She took advantage of the momentary lull to ask the Doctor a question. "Is it okay for me to be here?"

"What?" He asked, the first thing he'd said in almost a half an hour now.

"I asked if it was alright for me to be here. Is it safe? I mean if..."

He reached out and took both of her hands in his own. "I'd never bring you someplace that wasn't safe." She looked around at their surroundings, obviously not convinced. "Do you trust me?" he asked, and she stopped glancing around to look at him instead, her expression indicating that she wasn't quite sure how to answer. She _had_ trusted him this morning... did she now? He looked older now, more tired. His red hair was accented in the light, making his whole face seem to turn a bright crimson color. Maybe it was the unnatural light but there was something different about his eyes. Not just the color... he didn't seem to look at her the same way he once had. Was that a hint of sorrow? Regret? She couldn't say for certain.

".81. .80... wait, back to .81," Evan read. ".80... .81... it's fluctuating, leveling off... and holding steady at oh-point-eight-oh."

"Alright, good job boys," the captain said. "Evan, get every reading you can. Whatever's changed I want to know what it is and how we can re-create the effect. Let's make it happen."

"Yes ma'am."

The captain turned her chair around to face the two prisoners once again. "Now to deal with you two," she said.

"Yes, captain, shall I get on with throwing them overboard, then?"

"No, no, Mr. Hollins," she said. "They've done something to my ship, and I want to know what it is."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Happy Labor Day to all who celebrate the holiday. To those who don't... uh... happy bonus chapter day?**

* * *

There was an awful taste in his mouth as he began to regain consciousness, trying to force his eyes to open even though they were tightly clenched. He ran his tongue against his teeth and felt them covered with a sticky, slimy residue. He was lying on his back, he was certain of that, laid out on a hard table with a bright light shining on his eyelids. Good heavens was his mouth dry, though! What he wouldn't give for a drink of water at this point.

He continued to focus on the discomfort he was in - the foul taste, mouth like sandpaper, tingling in the extremities, a nasty pain in his left temple, and, quite possibly a broken toe. He didn't let his mind wander, just focused on the pain, because as long as he did that, he didn't have to think about the fact that he had no idea who he was, where he was, or how he'd got there.

"He is awake," a soft, lilting, almost serpentine voice said in his left ear.

"He has not moved," replied another, similar but deeper in register, on his right side.

"The sedative is still wearing off. He will be fully functional soon enough."

With a great effort, he force his eyes to open, staring into the bright light that seemed to stab his eyes. He tried to cover his eyes with his hand, found it was only able to slightly flop about on the table, and settled for turning his head away and squinting. The creature on his right was definitely reptilian in nature, walking on two legs but covered entirely in scales, with a long neck that was curved down into an S-shape and a head that was very much like a snake's, only much larger. The creature peered at him but didn't speak, so he took it upon himself to do so.

"Hello," he said in a cracked voice, licking his lips in vain to try to get some moisture into his mouth. "I'm..."

"Yes? You are?" the reptilian asked hopefully.

"I'm... I'm... not sure," he finally had to admit.

"That's perfectly understandable," the reptilian said, tongue slithering around each and every syllable and making each sentence take longer than it needed to. "You've had a terrible accident."

"Have I?"

"Correct," the first voice said, and he turned to face that speaker instead. He was also reptilian, probably the same species, but he was attired differently, wearing a white frock-like garment, all one piece and draped over the head. "You collapsed under exhaustion," the man continued. "You were told not to spend more than five hours outside the facility until your dosage could be properly calibrated."

"...Right, yeah," he said. "Sorry but... could you remind me who..."

"I am Hesketh," the one in the military uniform said. "I am overseeing the project. This is Florin, one of our finest xenophysicians." The one in doctor's garb bowed slightly.

"Great," he said. "Aaaaaand... sorry, who did you say I was, again?"

"You are Dr. John Smith, you are on assignment from the University of Gexalore, lending your engineering expertise to this project."

"Yes, the... project. Right." He remembered now, taking the sabbatical so he could assist in the project instead, turn his findings into a research paper. They were working on… what was it again? He couldn't recall. He shook his head as if to clear it, then said, "If I were to tell you I had no idea what project we're discussing, would that be bad?"

"It would be expected after what you've survived," Florin told him. "You should rest."

"Mmmmmmmmmm," he said, rubbing his hands over his face. "I _am _tired…"

"That's the radiation," Florin said. "I will increase your dosage." He pressed a tube to his neck, and he felt the rush of air as the medicine was injected into his tissues.

"What exactly happened?"

"You ignored what my doctor told you," Hesketh said. "You tried to continue work even though the radiation was affecting you and fell from one of the scaffolds."

"The head trauma was not severe," Florin added. "You will be fit to resume work tomorrow. For tonight, I order rest."

"I'm sure I could-" John said, starting to sit up, but Hesketh placed his webbed hand on the man's chest and pushed him back down onto the bed - not roughly, but firmly nonetheless.

"My doctor does not respond kindly when his prescriptions are ignored," Hesketh said. "The work will still remain tomorrow. The shift has nearly ended anyway."

"Very well," John said. "Twist my arm, I suppose."

"That would not be medically prudent," Florin said.

"No I... suppose not," John said.

"The doctor assusres me your memories will return shortly," Hesketh said. "I believe what you require is a good meal. Come. You will stay with my family tonight."

"Yes, right, just the thing I need I suppose."

They helped him into a hovering chair at Florin's insistence, though he'd much have preferred to make his way on his own. They'd strapped a small leather bag they claimed was his around the back of the chair and then off they'd gone. The chair responded reasonably well to his neural inputs, going wherever he willed it to go. He followed Hesketh a little uncertain of what he would find when they got where they were going. Already memories were starting to return, just like the doctor had promised. He knew his own name now, and he was beginning to get a recollection of the project. The images were vague but occasionally a sharper image would rise to the surface. The work crew consisted of about a dozen people plus himself, all working around some sort of enormous rhomboid device in a large underground facility. If he closed his eyes he could see it clearly as he stood craning his neck to look up at it. Each side of the rhombus was made of a topaz-colored crystal, none of them touching the others, hovering in place upright in a large steel chamber. How it stayed in one place was a mystery, and he thought he'd wait until his head cleared before he tried to make sense of the images in his mind. If Hesketh and Florin were correct, he'd be up and at 'em in no time, back to work and seeing it for himself.

"You are quiet this night," Hesketh observed as they walked through glass walkways to reach the residential sector.

"Just thinking," John replied, looking out at the flat desert that surrounded them as far as the horizon in every conceivable direction. The sun was just starting to set, bringing the reds and oranges and ruddy clay-like undertones out of the ground. "I remember about the project now but unless I'm very much mistaken, all the experiments are indoors."

"Indeed they are," Hesketh said.

"So... what was I doing outside the complex for so long as to get a touch of radiation sickness?

"Trying to adjust the radio telescopes. The mechanism jammed. We will have the damage repaired by morning. It is not so dangerous to work at night."

"The background radiation must still be high though."

"Yes," Hesketh agreed. "But not so high as when the sun is up. Hopefully soon we will have completed our mission, and the danger will be well passed."

"I hope so, Hesketh, I really do."

"Thank you, John. With your assistance I am certain the project will be a success."

They had arrived at his residence by now, and the door slid open, letting them into the family's unit. John took the chair over to the curved outer window. Like each residential unit, it faced the outside of the geodesic dome, each living space afforded a view of the bleak and desolate desert the facility was standing on. One day soon, if they were successful, that would all change.

Hesketh's children were already there, playing some game amongst themselves on the floor. "Mr. Smith!" the girl said, running up to him and giving him a hug.

"Hello Tenga!" he said, smiling at her enthusiastic greeting. If one didn't know better, they might think the little girl had known him for years, rather than a few short weeks. But he'd shown her some of his work, helped her with a simple school project, and in that time she'd taken an immediate liking to this smart man who knew all about forces and physics and energy and all things science. Concern crossed her snake-like face as she realized he was sitting in a hoverchair. "Are you okay?"

"Mr. Smith had an accident today," Hesketh said, "but doctor Florin assures us he will be well in the morning."

"Good!" Tenga said, turning back to the game she was playing with her brother.

"Pack that away," Hesketh said. "Nutrients will be served soon."

After a degree of convincing from both Hesketh and John, the children stopped their game and gathered around the table. Each of their place settings had a large, white, semi-gelatinous ovoid sitting on it, which the children and Hesketh latched onto with the fangs at the roof of their mouths.

"Perhaps today is the day you will be brave enough to try a nutrient sac?" Hesketh asked John teasingly, as John sat at the table eating his second ration pack.

"I think this will suit me fine, thanks," he said. "Besides, I think you'd find I don't have the teeth for it." Hesketh chuckled.

"Mr. Smith?"

"Yes, what is it, Tenga?"

"Tell us about the project again."

"Blimey, you never tire of that one, do you?" he asked with a laugh, and the little girl shook her head 'no' vigorously. "The basic idea is to find a new way to go great distances," he said. "Do you have any idea how big space is?"

"Really big!" she said excitedly.

"That's right," he smiled. "Bigger than the mind can encompass. It's huge beyond measure. Even traveling at the speed of light it takes millions and millions of years to cross it. But with the artifact, we think we can cut the distance down to nothing, bring 'here' there and 'there' here or, at least, create a linkage between them. The whole thing's to do with quantum chirality that'd take a thousand years to explain properly, but the point is we'll be able to form a connection between this end of the gate and the other end, wherever in the galaxy it is."

"But where did the artifact come from?" she asked. "How do you know it has a pair anywhere?"

"We don't," he said, "and even if it does we won't know for sure until we get it working whether whatever's on the other side is going to be any help. But then again, that's what hope is all about."

"Time for bed," Hesketh announced suddenly.

"I can clean up down here," John said. "I think I'm alright to-"

"If you so much as put a foot on this floor, the alarm on the chair will go off and ten medics will storm in here to help," Hesketh said. "I would prefer this not happen."

"Very well," John said, turning to the window to gaze out over the desolate landscape again, now nearly impossible to see as it turned pitch black out on the desert plains.

Hesketh followed the children upstairs into a completely empty room - totally bare with not even a single item of furniture. The children stood in the center of the room, neither making a sound of any kind. "Good work children," he said as he inserted a key into a hidden panel in the wall and twisted it. With a small flash and quiet, almost inaudible sparking sound, his two children vanished entirely. "Good work indeed."

"That didn't take long." John said when Hesketh came back down the stairs.

"No," the reptilian man agreed. "They are well behaved. Very easy to put to bed," he said as he slipped the key back in his pocket.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Heh heh heh... I feel so mischievous! Some of you are starting to figure something out. I can't wait to see who cracks it first!**

* * *

"So. You wanted to chat. Let's chat," the captain said, sitting in her chair, arms crossed over her chest, scowling at the Doctor and Quinn in a way that should have been intimidating if one of them hadn't spent a lot of time with Sue Sylvester and the other didn't stare right into the heart of evil on an almost daily basis.

"_You_ wanted to chat," Quinn corrected her. "_You're_ the one who's paranoid that someone did something to her ship."

"I've been on this assignment for almost six months now," she said, standing up and getting in Quinn's face as much as she could despite a slight height disadvantage. "Six months stuck down in this sardine can with only Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum, and Tweedle Dumber to talk to."

"Oi!" all three of the men from the crew said in unison, none of them happy to be grouped in with the Tweedle Trio.

"Six _months_," she said again, "all without a single result. Then all of a sudden you two turn up, and on that very day, mere moments later, we get closer than we ever dreamed possible. What are you doing here, how did you get here, and _what have you done_?"

Quinn didn't dare say anything - not the way the captain was glaring at them. She wasn't some self-aggrandizing megalomaniac, Quinn realized. She was a very sensible, very down-to-earth sort of person, who just happened to be completely furious and in possession of a gun. And she didn't seem to be the sort to have any qualms about sending a couple of people out to drown at ocean depths. _Come on, Doctor_, she silently pleaded. _Do something. Say something!_

"I don't have time for this," he said, finally speaking up. "Now come on. I've lost something and the sooner I find it, the sooner I'll be gone."

"You're in no position to make any demands," the captain said, but the Doctor was already forcing his way past her to lean over the sonar station. "You're lucky if I don't have you executed where you... Hey!" she called out as he strode off. "Aren't you listening to me?"

"Not if I can at all avoid it," the Doctor said. He strode over to the sonar station and started pressing at buttons, and though he didn't appear to know what he was doing right away, he was indeed making progress of some kind, because after a while the round screen started to beep regularly, reading a signal somewhere behind the ship. "You dumped something of mine off the ship," he said, pointing at the blip on the screen. "So just take us back, pick it up, and let us go. We'll be gone before you can spit."

"You're not going anywhere," the captain said. "Not after you've seen the secrets you have."

"We haven't seen anything, have we, Quinn?" the Doctor asked with a heavy sigh, and she could honestly say that she really hadn't.

"It's just some sub," she said. "I don't know where or when or anything. What harm is it going to do to let us be on our way?"

"You still know too much," the Captain said. "And besides, we're deep underwater, miles from the coast. And you want me to believe you just stumbled across us by accident? How stupid do you think I am?"

"It happens like that more often than you'd think," Quinn told her.

"Right. And I suppose it was also purely by accident that you broke in through a locked ballast tank!"

"Yes, we did!" Quinn said. "Trust me, it was a total accident."

"Well you can leave the same way you came, as far as I'm concerned. Mr. Hollins!"

"Ma'am," the gentleman said.

"You have your orders. Carry them out."

Mr. Hollins at least had the decency to look upset about the whole thing, like he was wrestling with his conscience about the moral implications. Quinn used that to her full advantage, wearing her most fearful and despondent look. With the very real threat of being shoved out to drown, it wasn't that hard. She liked a good swim as much as the next person but this was ridiculous.

"Uh... captain..."

"Mr. Hollins, will it be necessary for me to relieve you of duty? You know what that would mean," the captain said menacingly, ice dripping from every syllable.

Mr. Hollins gulped hard out of fear and stammered out a quick, "Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, that's enough," Evan said, standing up from his station and stepping towards the group. "This is absolutely ridiculous."

"Evan, you're out of line," the captain said.

"Sorry, far be it from me to interrupt murder time."

"This isn't murder," the captain said, "it's-"

But Evan cut her off. "State sponsored enforced silence? Biomass reallocation? Oxygen privilege re-evaluation? You can't fool me with all that political mumbo-jumbo drivel, so don't even try. Now I think you've forgot one of the most important questions in your quest to send these two to a watery grave. What effect does their presence have on the experiment?"

"I already asked them that. They wouldn't answer."

"Maybe they don't know. Maybe they have secrets of their own. Maybe they just need a bit of... persuasion, eh?" and he winked at Quinn in a way that she wasn't entirely sure she liked.

"It doesn't-"

"Doesn't matter?" Evan asked. "Everything matters in science. Anything can be a variable. What if there's something about these two that turns out to be important?"

"I really don't think-" the captain started, fists clenched and teeth grinding, looking more and more like a woman who was sure she was about to lose an argument but would not go gentle into that good night.

"This is the closest we've ever come, ever," Evan said. "The final variance was... uh... what was it, Odell?"

"Zero-point-eight," Odell replied, also standing up and coming to perch behind the captain. Now she had one behind each shoulder talking into her ear, and Quinn couldn't help but think she bore a resemblance to those old cartoons with an angel sitting on one shoulder and a little devil on the other, although this time both seemed to be leading her down the same path.

"0.8!" Evan said. "That's unheard of! Let Odell and me have a crack at them," he said. "You wouldn't want this kind of chance to slip away, would you?"

"I'm sure we can figure it out," Odell said. "First we'll run a bunch of tests."

"Yeah," Evan said. "Tests. I'm sure your little military brain would like that, right captain? Chances to use words like 'test subject' and 'evaluation' and 'lab rat' and stuff?"

"And then later, we can interrogate them a little," Odell said. "That is, if we don't get what we want from the experiments. No offense," he said, finally turning to Quinn and the Doctor as if only just realizing he was talking about people who were in the room.

"None taken," the Doctor replied.

"Now come on, how can you argue with that?" Evan said. "It's a perfect plan. It's got science, it's got good cop/bad cop, it's got blood. You like that, dontcha?" he asked, giving her a little scratch behind the ear like one would give a dog. She slapped his hand away, looking annoyed.

The captain sighed, and made one last ditch effort. "Protocol says they can't bring word of our mission back to anyone."

"Then keep them here and kill them later," Evan said. "Where are they gonna go, eh? You already flushed their transport."

The captain closed and clenched her eyes tight. They made a good enough point - there might be something about the visitors they could either glean or extract that would tell them more about what was going on here, and that wasn't a chance she could afford to let slip through her grasp, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She shoved the two scientists aside - both were crowding her personal bubble - and sat down in her chair again in a huff. "Take them away," she said. "Run your tests. Come back with good news."

"We'll do our best!" Evan said. "Now come on." He looped an arm through Quinn's, while Odell did the same with the Doctor, dragging them surprisedly along with them as they left the control room.

"I think something dry to wear first," Odell said.

"Thank you," Quinn said.

"What for?" Evan said.

"For stopping the captain from killing us," she said.

"Thank me when you're on your way away from here," Evan said. "Now, you might be a hard fit..." he said, referring to Quinn, "but we ought to have something this guy can squeeze into," he said, indicating the Doctor. "I didn't catch your names, by the way."

"Quinn Fabray," Quinn said, shaking both their hands.

"And I'm the Doctor," the Doctor said.

"Just 'the Doctor'?" Odell asked.

"That's right," the Doctor said, then muttered in a somewhat dejected tone, "that's me."

A few minutes later she and the Doctor were sitting in the galley, having a taste of some sort of soup. It was hot and that was all Quinn really cared about. She didn't even mind the fashion disaster that she currently represented. The only person whose clothes would accommodate her was a spare jumpsuit from Mr. Hollins' wardrobe. It was bulky and oil-stained in places, but it was cotton, and it was heavy, and most of all it was warm. Standing there sopping wet on the bridge she was sure she was about to catch her death of cold. Fortunately the change of clothes and warm drink were enough to have her feeling better very soon.

The two scientists seemed nice enough, and she was starting to feel a bit safer now that she was sitting quietly with them and not being threatened. Even was a lanky sort of guy, with dirty blonde hair and a goatee who seemed to take a perverse sort of pleasure in not being rigid and up-tight even in their surroundings. Odell was a bit quieter and more reserved, usually not saying anything unless he was directly spoken to first. She could almost forget he was here the way he just sat and observed.

"The hospitality leaves something to be desired," the Doctor said, bringing a spoonful of the liquid up to eye level and letting it splash back into the bowl disinterestedly.

"Sorry," Evan said, "it's all we've got. You get used to it after the first month or so. Then comes a three week period where you'd rather be dead than have another bite, and then your brain just sort of switches off and you eat it on autopilot."

"I wasn't entirely referring to the soup," the Doctor said, letting his spoon clank into the bowl. "Although you're right. It is abysmal."

"Gee, thanks a lot," Odell said sarcastically, and the Doctor raised an eyebrow at him.

"Odell's on kitchen duty this month," Evan said. "No cooks aboard, just us important people."

The Doctor shrugged. "But what I don't understand is what you're doing down here to begin with."

"Critically important science stuff," Evan said. "You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, I don't know," the Doctor replied. "Try me."

"No, don't," Quinn said. "You boys can chat about 'science stuff' until you're blue in the face after I've been shown somewhere I can pass out from exhaustion. Until then, nobody gets to use words with more than three syllables."

"Like what, then?" Odell said, getting himself a bowl of the soup too.

"Like what's up with your captain? She seems awfully…" she trailed off, searching for a kind word.

"Awful?" Evan supplied.

"I wouldn't say that."

"Yeah, you don't have to. I just did," he said, flashing a wicked grin.

"I'm surprised she let you talk to her the way you did," Quinn said.

"Captain Corris hasn't got any authority over us and she knows it. There's no rank insignia on either of our chests, Odell and me. We're contract employees. The only one she can actually order about is Hollins, and damned if she doesn't make the most of it."

"How many more are on the crew?" the Doctor asked.

"Nobody," Odell said with a shrug. "It's just us four. Plus you two of course, for a grand total of six. Though it looks like it'll be seven if we hang around too long, am I right?"

Just for once, Quinn thought, it'd be nice if the biggest mistake of her entire life wasn't the very first thing people noticed about her. Thankfully the Doctor came to her rescue.

"I hardly think it matters. I don't intend either of us to stay that long."

"Yeah, well, that all depends on whether we get your pod or sub or whatever you call it back or not," Evan said. "The captain may not be able to order us around, but we can't exactly force her to turn back either. She's got her duty, after all."

"What are you doing all the way out here anyway?" the Doctor asked.

"We're looking for something," Evan said. "We don't quite know what. But whatever it is, it's giving off tons of energy. A NOAA scouter first noticed it a couple years back, shooting off radiation spikes across the whole EM spectrum. Since then weird stuff keeps on happening around these parts."

"What kind of weird stuff?"

"About a thousand fish corpses suddenly washed up on the shore about nine months back. The water temperature's constantly fluctuating, usually getting hotter for no apparent reason. And once some US ship got its propellers all torn up by this little shard of metal… turned out to be an element nobody's ever seen on this planet before… #166 or somesuch."

"But the elements after 98 don't exist in nature," Quinn said.

"Ooh, someone know her chemistry," Evan said, obviously impressed. "And you're right. Nobody can explain where this thing came from, so of course everyone starts in on this theory that it's from another planet."

"And you disagree?" the Doctor asked.

"Well, I'm not saying it isn't a possibility," Evan said. "But the odds are astronomical. Gotta be, what, a million to one?"

"Two million, fifteen thousand and-" Odell started, but Evan shut him up.

"Yeah, we get it, number-head, thanks. Maybe you could turn off the calculus beam inside your brain long enough to talk to some actual human beings, hm?"

"So what's this phase variance number you're all so fascinated with?" the Doctor asked.

"Just before that thing washed up and screwed up that ship, the scouter we had down here detected a shift in phase variance," Odell said. "Normal ranges are between 2.06 at the high end, and 1.6 at the low end. The day of the event, it was almost 0."

"It's like there are two opposing waveforms trying to merge together," Evan said, waggling his fingers together. "Once they're completely overlaid… something happens. Nobody's quite sure what. So we've been trying to… uh… shall we say 'force the issue'? We've managed to get it as low as 1.5 with a focused tachyon beam but that was a few weeks ago."

"So you think we did something to change the phase variance?" the Doctor asked.

"Well, maybe not intentionally, but something definitely changed the second you two showed up. That's gotta mean something. That's how it is with science. You change one little variable and it's all… different."

"How eloquent," Odell said. "Ever consider writing textbooks?"

"Oh har har," Evan shot back, but there was no hint of actual malice in it. It seemed like these two enjoyed a good joke at one anothers' expense. Maybe that was all there was to do around here, Quinn thought.

"So, about that passing out I mentioned?"

"We'll take you to quarters," Evan said. "I'm afraid it's all shared living space, except for the Captain of course. But there are plenty of bunks - this sub's meant to house a crew of at least 30."

"Sounds positively roomy," the Doctor said with a sneer.


	6. Chapter 6

Hesketh was right, the work was still waiting for them in the morning. New released from his hoverchair, John Smith had a new lease on life, ready to take on the planet's problems single-handedly and solve them all before breakfast, he thought. It certainly help that he'd slept so well. He didn't think he'd slept like that in _years_, decades maybe.

He and Hesketh left early in the morning, before the children were up. John worried about leaving them alone before breakfast, but Hesketh assured him that they could take care of themselves. It was incredible to see the bond that Mr. Smith had apparently formed with them in such a short time, he thought, but there was little time to dwell on it.

The lab where the majority of their work took place was on the opposite side of the habitation complex, so they took the rapid transit tram to get there rather than going the scenic route through the winding corridors. The transit rails all emanated from a central hub underneath the rest of the complex, with tendrils reaching out towards the outlying areas like blood vessels, branching off further and further to service the entire population of 8000-some individuals. If the experiment were to fail, they might have to rely on these tunnels for their very survival, but Hesketh hoped it wouldn't come to that.

He and John made their way through the central complex, and after thirty uneventful minutes they had arrived at the laboratory. Hopefully they'd be able to make some real headway today. That looked less likely as soon as they entered the lab, however; Kurr, one of the scientists working on the team, was waiting for them as soon as they entered the research compled.

"Administrator Hesketh," he said, bowing his head slightly in respect. "The Overseer is waiting for you in your office."

"Overseer Torak? What business does he have here?"

"He seeks an update on the experiment, Administrator," the scientist replied, flicking his tiny tongue in an expression of distaste.

"Today of all days..." Hesketh replied with a growl at the back of his throat. "I will see him. But his visit must be expedient. John, you will accompany me?"

"Yes, I'd be delighted," John said with a nervous smile.

"Then come quickly. The sooner this is done, the sooner work can begin again in earnest."

They made their way to the administrative sections instead of continuing right on to the lab. Hesketh's office was up three flights of stairs, and the entire back wall was glass, allowing him to look down into the pit and observe the experiments taking place there. When the two men arrived, the Overseer was already there, just like Kurr had said. He had his muscular arms folded behind his back as he watched the scientists at work far below, taking readings and checking the output from the device on a series of monitors.

"You are late, Administrator," the Overseer said as they entered, not bothering to turn away from the window. "I am sure you know that I do not like to be kept waiting."

"Yes, Overseer," Hesketh replied, making the same gesture of respect that Kurr had made earlier, although with his back turned there was no way the Overseer would have seen it.

"I require an update as to your progress. The council grows restless."

"We are ready, Overseer," Hesketh promised. "All the systems are in place. We wait only for the final activation order."

"The order will not be given," the Overseer replied. "Not until your team proves itself and the validity of the mission."

"Overseer, please, listen to reason," Hesketh said in response. He gestured to the master system dispaly, a large screen on the wall of the laboratory that both he and the workers far below could read. "The entire initiative is a useless waste of our time. We could have already completed the project many seasons ago were it not for these outrageous restrictions imposed by the council."

"The council's restrictions remain in place and will not be uplifted," the Overseer responded, a touch of annoyance creeping into his voice. "The restrictions are in place for the benefit of every being on this world. No order for activation will be given until it is proved that the gateway is safe."

"No living thing could even traverse the gateway without aid of some kind. If there were a danger, it would have become mainfest long ago."

"You cannot guarantee that," the Overseer said. "You must do so if this project is to continue."

Hesketh's demeanor hardened. "I have been made aware of the council's restrictions a thousand times over," he said. "If you have not come here to lift them, then why have you come at all?"

"I have come to ensure that another... incident like the previous one will not occur again," the Overseer said, and he finally turned away from the window at this point to stare at the administrator. "Another such occurance will guarantee the end of the project immediately. Is that understood?"

Hesketh recoiled at the Overseers words. "Yes, Overseer," he said. "It will not happen again."

"See that it does not," the Overseer replied. "Do you still have the offending item?"

"All except the piece that was dematerialized," Hesketh responded. "It is safely locked awat in my own personal vault."

"Ensure that it stays that way," the Overseer replied. As if realizing for the first time that they were not alone, he inclined his head towards John. "I trust your... new associate is performing well?"

"He exceeds expectations, Overseer," Hesketh replied. "Without him we would be much further behind."

The Overseer grumbled out a soft 'hmph', then said. "See that he continues to be useful." And without so much as a simple goodbye, he strode from the office, the automatic door sliding shut behind him.

"Pleasant chap, isn't he?" John said.

"Not particularly," Hesketh replied. "We have wasted too much time already. We should activate the artifact."

"Seems the council's not up for that."

"No," Hesketh agreed with a sigh. "Not until safety can be guaranteed."

"Best to get started then, I think."

"Agreed," Hesketh replied, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Let us begin."

They made their way back down to the laboratory, standing in the large room they had been looking down into just moments before. "Morning progress report," Hesketh called as they entered.

"We have charged the device once again," Kurr said. "We are now preparing to begin scanning sector 31-B."

"Any change?"

"So far nothing," Kurr replied. "Just as with all previous tests."

Hesketh sighed. "Continue testing and scanning."

"Yes, Administrator," Kurr said, turning back to his equipment. "Mr. Smith, would you assist?"

"Yes, of course," John said, taking the secondary position next to Kurr at the console.

The two of them focused on their equipment, while Hesketh joined the other team whose attention was focused on the artifact itself. "Prepare to begin sequence," Hesketh said, and the other workers sped into action in a well-rehearsed dance they had done thousands of times before. "Commence secondary activation sequence."

A hatch in the ceiling opened, and a large piece of equipment was lowered into position on the laboratory floor. Two engineers made their way to the thing, unstrapped it from the harness that had lowered it, and turned it to face the artifact.

The artifact was a green diamond-shaped structure composed of four long rods that floated near one another but never actually touched, held in perfect position by some sort of forcefield. It stood against the far wall of the lab, and was given an extremely wide berth - nobody came within two hundred paces of the thing. A line on the floor delineated the safe zone, and nobody dared to cross it.

"The emitter is in place, Administrator," the engineer said after he had finished aligning it with the artifact. "We are prepared for UV activation."

Radiation of a specific wavelength would have been sufficient to force the device to open itself up, of course, but the council forbade that action until they knew exactly what they were dealing with on the other side. And so once again they started the activation sequence, only to halt it just before the event was due to take place. "Initiate a burst at 75% power for twenty three seconds," Hesketh said.

"Radio telescope array is moving into position," John said, reaching into his vest pocket and removing the goggles he'd been issued with. The other Pyth natives didn't need eye protection against the light that was about to fill the ro0m but he did - he'd go blind otherwise. "Aligning Y-coordinate values on sector 31-B. We are ready for secondary activation."

"UV burst in 3. 2. 1." Hesketh said, and on 1, the entire chamber lit up with a blinding light. John always felt uncomfortable for this part, as the group of them stared ahead at the artifact on the wall behind a rough line of consoles and computer screens, though he couldn't ever put his finger on why. Twenty three seconds later the light died away and John removed his tinted goggles.

"Is there any result?" Hesketh asked hopefully. One day they would have to get a result, they just had to.

"Scanning," Kurr said, and the entire team held their breath in anticipation.

Thirty agonizing seconds went by, then forty, when Hesketh finally broke the silence. "Well?"

Kurr refused to speak, so John took up his responsibility. "No change," he said dejectedly. "There is no change in sector 31-B. The sector is not a match."

Behind him on the display, the sector in question was tinted a light red to indicate that it was no longer a viable contender. Hundreds of sectors were tinged the same color. Thousands more remained unsearched.

"Begin resetting the equipment," Hesketh said dejectedly, and left the laboratory immediately.

John followed after him, having to jog to keep up. "We'll get a result soon, I'm sure of it," he said.

"That is easy for you to say!" Hesketh growled out. "You have no investment. The livelihood of your people is not in question."

"I know," John said.

"There is no danger from the artifact. It has been all but proven! Yet still the council does nothing. Still they cower in fear of the unknown, fearing some improbable danger from beyond the stars while a real one brews above our heads!"

"Isn't there something we can do, make them see reason?"

"Not likely," Hesketh said. "Not after what happened before."

"You mean the incident the Overseer spoke of?"

"Correct," Hesketh hissed, calming down a bit.

"What happened?"

For someone who, just a minute before, had been willing to rant to anyone who would listen about anything under the sun, Hesketh clammed up. "Before you arrived there was... another associate working on the project," he said. "A season ago, in fact. He went mad, he activated the artifact."

John's eyes went wide. "It's been activated before?"

"Once, for exactly ten seconds. The council shut it down, immediately."

"And then what?"

"And then... nothing," Hesketh said. "The associate was removed from the project, and the experiment continued on as normal in all other respects."

"But... doesn't that prove what you've been saying all along? And the council still won't hear reason?"

"The council is unwilling to hear anyone's views but their own, and their view is that the artifact could lead to anywhere, or anything. Until we find where the artifact's portal terminates, they will not authorize its activation."

"I can't believe there's no record of any of this. If the artifact is Pyth-"

"It is not," Hesketh said. "It is of our ancestors, a legacy passed down through a hundred thousand generations. The fact that the knowledge to operate it at all exists to this day is a miracle. Its terminus, as well as our origins, remains unknown to this day."

"I can't believe you don't know where you came from, as a people! That must be… unbearable."

"The knowledge is lost to time, a mystery of aeons hence," he said. "To dwell on it will accomplish nothing."

"You're a braver man than I am, Hesketh. Not knowing where you come from…"

"The past is immaterial," Hesketh said boldly, banishing both their bad moods. "What matters is the securing of our future, a thing we will accomplish well, with your assistance. Now come. The equipment will take several cycles to recharge. Take a mid-morning nutrient break with me."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry I missed last week's update. This chapter just... didn't flow right. Even now I'm still not really happy with it. Anyway, I tried to fix it a couple times but it just sort of sapped my enthusiasm for writing a bit, just because it wasn't working right, to the point that every time I looked at it I was filled with the urge to have a nap or drink some tea or stare unblinkingly at a corner for two hours. Fortunately, I think I've got a new spark that will, hopefully, get things up and running again. Still, sorry again to anyone I disappointed.**

**So. The Doctor. A lot of you have asked me what's up here and have suspicions of what's going on. Rest assured, you're not the only one with doubts about a few things, but all Quinn has to go on is the information she's been told and what she's observed, and there are a few things she just can't reconcile. Maybe if she had more information that'd be different, but she's doing the best with what she has to go on.**

**But if I were you, _I'd_ want to know a bit more about what's happening on the _other_ planet, something I've seen far less speculation about. And lucky you, that's where the next chapter takes place.**

* * *

Quinn's sleep was fitful, to say the least. She tossed and turned on the lumpy bunk, never really getting into deep, restful sleep. Her dreams were plagued with images she'd rather not see, like the Doctor - her Doctor, the Doctor he'd been this morning - out alone on the surface of that ruddy planet. He trudged along slowly, marching into a gale-force wind, trying to move forward against the current pressing him backwards. Then suddenly he stopped in pain, one hand pressed to each side of his chest as he cringed and fell to his knees, screaming with nobody there to hear him. In the dream, she was running, trying her best to reach him, but she could never manage to close the distance. The wind was too strong but it carried his agonized wailing across the flat plain right to her, trying her hardest to get across to him even though her feet felt like lead and sunk to the ankles with each passing step. He had turned to face her somehow and the expression on his face was unreadable - anger? Betrayal? Regret? She couldn't say for certain.

The Doctor was just exploding in a flash of blood-red light when a klaxon starting ringing through the ship, echoing around the metallic hull until it became a ringing, screeching sound. She sat bolt upright in the bottom bunk, and when she did so she smacked her forehead against the springs of the mattress above her, the one where the Doctor was sleeping. She fell back down on the bed, fingers pressed to her aching skull as she tried to blink back tears of pain and catch her breath in short, ragged gasps, all at the same time.

"What's happening?" she heard the Doctor ask loudly over the wailing siren.

"Phase variance is shifting again," Evan said through a huge yawn as he stretched and jumped down from one of the top bunks. "We've gotta go check it out. You can stay here if you like."

"Will the alarm be going off the whole time?" Quinn shouted with the pillow wrapped around her head to block out the noise.

"Afraid so," Odell told her.

"Might as well get up then," she grumbled, standing up and angrily throwing the pillow at the bulkhead the bunk was chained to. She was following the two scientists when she made an abrupt about-face and stared at the Doctor's bunk instead.

He hadn't moved at all. He was lying on his stomach with his arms folded up under his head, and he couldn't have looked more disinterested in what was going on around him if he'd been reading _War and Peace_. As it was, he stared blankly at the adjoining bunk until he caught sight of her reddened face. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"It's Evan," she said.

"What about him?"

"He's not wearing anything!" she said in a hushed whisper.

The Doctor looked over to the other scientist. "So he isn't," he said, and went back to staring blankly ahead.

"Well, tell him to put something on!"

"Who am I to tell him what to sleep in? He can nod off in an old PE kit for all I care," he said.

"You're… the Doctor," she said. "Telling people what to do is your thing."

"Not anymore," he said. "New body, new face, new rules, and the new rule is, mind your own business, keep to yourself."

"You? Keep to yourself?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Why not?" he asked back. "Doing anything else sure seems to get us in trouble. I'm a bit tired of it myself."

"It always works out in the end though," she said.

"Not always."

"What do you mean?"

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then shut it again. _Some things never change_, she thought. A few seconds later he started again. "I lost us the TARDIS, didn't I?"

"We'll get it back," she said reassuringly, patting him on the arm, and he smiled weakly.

"Looks like your friend realized there's a lady present," he said, nodding towards the two scientists. "He's put a dressing gown on now."

"Should we see what they're up to?"

"Why not?" the Doctor asked. "Maybe I'll find something to do other than be bored."

The made their way up to the bridge again, the whole journey only taking them a few minutes. It was impossible to get lost; the rooms stacked in front of each other like train cars. Just as long as they kept moving forward, there was almost nowhere to make a wrong turn.

The doors to the bridge slid open when they approached, and the captain spared them only a cursory glance when they came in. "Shut up and stay out of the way," she said by way of greeting, then she turned back to the two men, becoming totally engrossed in her work and the numbers they were reporting back to her.

"Is it as low as before?" Odell asked.

"Not yet," Evan said. "It's not changing as fast as last time, either."

"I want all scanners recording," the captain said. "If there's any change at all out there… or in here," she said, glancing at the Doctor and Quinn, "I want to know about it."

"Understood," Odell said, and Quinn had to give the two scientists credit - they seemed more like frat guys than respected, nerdy scientists most of the time, but at least they seemed to be all business when things really got hopping. "All scanners are writing all readings to drive."

"Still no change on the phase variance," Evan reported, and he looked disappointed to say the least. "I don't understand what's different this time. Every single reading is the same as it was before. Nothing should be different but it is."

"That's good, isn't it?" the Doctor asked. "Sounds like it's nothing to do with us. You can swing round, get us our box, we'll be out of your hair."

"More shutting up than that, please, thank you," the captain said, not bothering to look at him.

"Oh, whatever," he replied dismissively and occupied himself watching the sonar scope spin round and round.

"Still no change," Evan said, and a few seconds later he slammed his fist down on the console. "Shift's ended," he said. "Got nothing out of it."

"So I suppose that means we can talk then?" the Doctor asked.

The captain turned on him, finally facing the back of the control room again. She glowered at him under a mix of rage and sleep deprivation - like the scientists, she'd been awoken out of a dead sleep and hadn't had the time to compose herself. Her hair was down instead of being pulled back tightly into a bun at the back of her head. Somehow, this did nothing to soften her appearance, but in fact made her look like some sort of unkempt, untamed animal ready to pounce. "If you and your friend aren't related to yesterday's shift then I see no reason not to put you off the ship entirely."

"What are you trying to do down here anyway?" Quinn asked.

"It's classified," the captain snapped, but Quinn wouldn't be deterred so easily.

"Maybe we can help," she said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The Doctor's smart," she said. "And you said it'd been half a year. Maybe having someone else take a look can help?"

"Quinn..." the Doctor said, suddenly apprehensive. "It's better all around if we just get on our way."

"That doesn't seem to be an option," she said. "But maybe if we do something for them, they'll do something for us."

Neither the Doctor nor the captain seemed particularly enamored of this idea, but Evan stood from his console and came to stand beside the captain. This time he wasn't mocking her, however. His arms were crossed and he looked surprisingly pitiful, like all the life had gone out of him. "We might as well let them see, Captain," he said.

"We're not supposed to-"

"No, we're not," He agreed, "but at this point, what's the harm? We're not any closer than we were six months ago. If we're going to make any headway, maybe we need someone with a new perspective." The captain didn't say anything for a few moments, so he played his alternate hand. "Even if they see everything, there's no way they're getting back to tell anyone unless we authorize it."

Quinn really wished that 'You can always kill them later' wasn't the trump card in this argument, but it seemed to be doing the job alright, so she didn't complain. The captain sighed heavily and then said, "Fine. Show them."

Nobody moved for a few seconds, and Quinn was beginning to think neither of the two men had heard the captain's order, but then the sub started to shudder and an almighty clanking sound began to rumble around the bridge. She looked around, confused, trying to find the source of the noise, when suddenly the room began to lighten. The glow was coming from a small crack that had appeared at the front of the room, and was slowly widening. It was too bright to look directly into, and it had a sickly green tinge to it that made her wonder exactly what it was she would end up looking at. Her first thought was that this was a door into another room on the sub but by all rights they should have been at the very front of the ship, with nowhere else to go. The blinding light continued to spill through the seam, growing brighter and brighter as the crack widened, and she finally realized what was happening.

The entire front third of the room wasn't a bulkhead at all, but an enormous window. Now that it was opened, Quinn could see that there actually was more of the ship ahead - they were in a raised compartment overlooking the rest of the sub. "Incredible," the Doctor said. "How does it stay intact under the pressure?"

"It's metal," Evan said. "The exact same material as the outer hull."

"You're kidding me."

Evan walked up to the front of the room and rapped on it with his knuckles to prove it. Sure enough, it gave a metallic clang. "The outer hull is a titanium alloy that's been molecularly altered in order to allow visible light through. The inner hull is a separate material that turns transparent when exposed to intensely targeted X-rays."

"Isn't the radiation dangerous?"

"The whole compartment's shielded - control room, mess, sleeping quarters, and labs. That's why the crew's so small. Our living space is reduced down to accommodate all the extra equipment and shielding."

But the hull was the least interesting thing to look at, at least as far as Quinn was concerned. She was more interested in the source of the green light, a glowing, diamond-shaped structure, taller than it was wide, embedded into the rocks below them. "What's that?"

"That," Odell replied, "is the source of the phase variance readings. We've been trying to activate it since its discovery."

"What does it do?"

"We're not sure," Evan admitted as the captain cleared her throat in the background - she might be willing to let them have a look but she wasn't about to let Evan give away all the secrets. "But it doesn't look like it originated on this planet," he continued. "Our guess is that it's some kind of alien technology."

"What, at the bottom of the ocean?" the Doctor asked.

"It's possible it fell to Earth," the captain supplied, still hanging back from the rest of the group who had move to stand in front of the window. "It could have been down here for… ever."

"I can show you the data," Evan said, "go over everything we've tried. If you have any new ideas I'd be glad to hear them."

"And I'll go over all the numbers with you, see if there's anything we missed."

"So, Doctor?" the Captain asked. "What's it to be? Will you help us? Or do we need to find an alternative arrangement?"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Trust me, I will eventually explain who everyone is and why they are where they are. Just hang tight! In the meantime, this chapter should start to clarify a few things.**

* * *

If they stayed an extra hour after the work shift had technically ended, they could get in a 3rd attempt for the day, so John and Hesketh had offered to do just that, releasing most of the staff to go home and keeping only a few others who were absolutely necessary to monitor the equipment safely. The emitter was still in place; it was only necessary to raise it back into the storage compartment at the end of the work shift, which meant they could get it charged up and ready pretty easily. The artifact had to be allowed to discharge itself completely, bleeding off all the capacitive energy it had stored up during the last test. Additionally, they had to re-align the radio telescopes, double and triple checking that they were locked into the correct position in the sky; if they were off by even a fraction of a centimeter here on the surface, the effect could be an incomplete scan of the vast distances light years and light years away.

The entire sequence had become like a script, run through in a lifeless manner each and every time they made a new attempt. Making sure each step took place, correctly and in order, was important, of course, and so they would continue to do so every time until they found what they were looking for, but it was hard not to feel, each and every time they made an attempt with no results, and the number of scannable sectors in their skies dwindled, that the whole project was going to be for naught. There was always a chance that the terminus was somewhere along a line that crossed through the Pyth sun, and if that was the case then getting a reading on any of those sectors would be completely impossible without equipment much better than what they had available."

"Initiate a burst at 75% power for twenty three seconds," Hesketh said with a sigh.

"Radio telescope array is moving into position. Aligning Y-coordinate values on sector 31-D. We are ready for secondary activation."

"UV burst in 3. 2. 1." Once again, twenty-three seconds went by in absolute silence as they averted their eyes from the blinding light.

"Scanning for results now," John said, "Scan's twenty percent complete… forty… sixty… _come on_!" They all waited anxiously until the computer gave a tiny, anticlimactic beep. John sighed. Sector 31-D is not a match." He sighed heavily, then took off his goggles and said, "I'm sorry."

The few remaining scientists shook their heads and started to leave for the night. There was nothing else to say, and they filed out in a dejected sort of silence, preparing to return and try it all again the next day. John still hadn't stood up, though. He was pouring over technical documentation - everything the Pyth knew about the artifact.

"Maybe if we could bleed off the energy the artifact stores faster somehow, we could get more tests done in a day," he said, typing furiously at the keyboard. "If we could hook a generator up to it, we could convert the energy it's stored back into heat or motion… maybe a simple engine… just something to use up that energy quicker. Oooh! We could use it to power the UV generator back up partially. Kill two birds with one stone as it were. All we'd have to do is attach a conduit to each device and in the center rig up a simple energy converter. Let me check if we have everything we need," John said, starting to pull up an equipment manifest on screen, but Hesketh motioned to stop him before he could begin.

"It is time for your inoculation first," he said.

"I'll do it as soon as this test is done," John said dismissively, turning back to the monitor before him, but he looked away again when he felt a very firm, almost painful grip on his shoulder.

"I must insist," Hesketh said, staring unblinkingly into John's eyes, "that it be now." A little voice at the back of John's head started to natter away at him, saying he should be wary, that there might be danger of some kind here, but then Hesketh loosened his grip and smiled - as much as a man with the head of a snake can smile, anyway - and said, "Or do you not remember how you ended up in the medical unit with an aching head?"

John smiled back. "Alright, very well," and he pulled one of the self-injectors from his bag and pressed it to his arm. He was just about to press the trigger on it, releasing the anti-radiation serum into his bloodstream riding an extremely focused microstream of compressed air, when something occurred to him. 'Do you not remember...' Hesketh had asked, and it occurred to him that the answer was... no. Everything else had come back to him, just like it was supposed to. He was John Smith, he had specialized in Engineering, he was here as an expert tech helping to get their equipment running. He remembered getting his assignment from the president of the university, he remembered arriving on the planet to be greeted warmly by Hesketh and his children, being briefed on the work they were doing, being assigned a temporary living space, his first glimpse of the artifact and all the efforts that were made to get it working. But he didn't remember anything about going outside the protective dome that enclosed the settlement whatsoever. "Hesketh, you know something funny?" he asked, but before he could answer, the rumble of a distant explosion shook the floor plating beneath their feet, and an alarm started to go off. Lights flashed and both John and Hesketh turned to run towards the door, their previous conversation forgotten, and John's injection still waiting, unused, on the computer console.

The alert was coming from the genetics lab, where Pyth scientists were working on creating an environment more conducive to the growth of agricultural crops. John and Hesketh rushed in, skidding to a stop just a few steps inside when they were greeted by an enormous blast door that had slid shut automatically. Through the window they could see that a fire was burning in the small lab, spreading quickly, and extremely hot - even being on this side of the door felt like they were in a blast furnace. The effect was probably much worse on the other side. And there, making their way towards them, was a very panic-stricken looking janitor. He was limping, and his uniform was singed from the torso up, as if he'd been caught full in the upper body by the explosion.

"We've got to get him out of there," John said.

"The blast door cannot be opened until the Overseer approves it," Hesketh said, pointing at the door control panel. "He'll have been summoned by the alarm, but it will take several minutes for him to arrive."

"But he'll burn!" John said. He stood directly in front of the panel and opened the left lapel of his uniform, reaching for the inside pocket where he found… nothing. He shook his head to clear it. Now wasn't the time to try to figure out what had possessed him to do that, someone's life was in danger.

"The fire suppression system should have extinguished the flames," Hesketh said. "It seems to have failed."

The janitor had made it to the blast door by this point and was pounding frantically on it, wanting to be released.

"Where's the control system for fire suppression? We've got to activate it manually!" John said, as he made his way back into the corridor and searched for the stairs. "We'll be back," he yelled to the janitor, but he doubted the man heard him, because he pounded even more furiously on the doors when he saw John and Hesketh leaving. The terror etched onto his face was horrifying to behold to say the least.

"Up one level from here. It's possible the system was also damaged in the explosion," Hesketh said, leading the way.

"Let's hope there's a backup."

"There is," Hesketh said as they climbed the flight of stairs. They came to a door much like the one below, and Hesketh entered his code to open it. As he'd suspected, the flames from below had started to spread up here as well, and the computer that controlled the fire suppression systems was a charred and smoky mess, sparking all over the place.

"Without the computer," Hesketh said, "we will have to manually activate the system. That means the whole facility will be covered, not just the room below."

"There's no choice," John said. "That man will die if we don't. Ready?"

"Ready," Hesketh said. Each of them stood in front of a lever, both needing to be activated at the same time for the manual override.

"On three. Ready?" John asked, and Hesketh nodded. "One. Two. _Three_!"

As soon as they pulled the switches, the entire room was flooded with a thick, gooey gel. It flooded down from an emitter in the ceiling, spraying every single surface and coating them all in the flame-suppressing stuff.

It only took a few seconds for the sounds of crackling flames to die down below them, and Hesketh breathed a sigh of relief, but John wasn't stopping yet. He made his way over to the fire suppression computer and tried to move the case the computer was installed in, but he pulled his hands away immediately after - the metal was extremely hot.

"Help me with this," he said, wrapping his palms with a nearby towel and trying again, tugging with all his might to dislodge the charred remains of the computer.

"What are you doing?"

"That man still needs help," John said. "And the floor's already weakened under here because of the explosion."

Understanding what John meant to do, Hesketh helped him get the computer away from the burned section of the floor. Sure enough, the ceiling was bowing there, blackened and charred because of the explosion from below, and so they had little difficulty punching a hole in it with a stool they had found in the room. John lowered himself into position above the hole, sitting on the edge. "Go back around the other way, wait for the Overseer. Get a medical team ready." Hesketh nodded and turned to go back down the stairs. Taking a deep breath, John pushed himself off and down the hole, landing on the floor beneath. The smoke was still thick in the room even though the fire had been put out, and he hoped that it would start to vent up through the hole in the ceiling. The flame-retardant gel was still spraying from the emitter in this room, and when he landed he nearly slipped on the slickened surface of the floor.

The janitor had curled into a ball in the far corner, with his back facing the flames. John rushed to his side, kneeling down beside him and turning him over. "Are you alright?" he asked, shaking him gently. "Are you okay, can you hear me?" The janitor started to come to, but was gripped immediately by a massive coughing fit, and John forced him to lay back down, unmoving. "It's alright, don't try to say anything. Don't move. Just hang on for a few more minutes," he said, taking the janitor's hand.

Sure enough, a couple minutes later the blast door finally slid open and the medical team rushed in, picking up the severely burned janitor and wheeling him away on a gurney. The Overseer stood back against the doorjamb, wanting to be as out of the way as possible. Sivin, the scientist who'd been working in here, on the other hand, rushed into the room, also summoned when the alarm in his lab went off, and currently ignoring everyone who was congregated around the opening.

"My research!" he yelled. "What have you done? Everything in this lab is ruined - everything. And not just in my area, but the whole facility.

"Yes. That poor man who nearly died is fine, by the way," John said sarcastically, hands in his pockets as he approached the frantic scientist who was examining his destroyed equipment at the back of the room.

"Yes, yes," Sivin said dismissively, waving him off as if he were shooing a bee. He was now examining the epicenter of the flames. "He caused the fire in the first place. I've no sympathy at all."

"What?" Hesketh asked.

Sivin held two large beakers aloft. "Two-part compound. He poured them both into the drain."

"Why weren't these secured properly?" John asked. "He did exactly what he was supposed to do. _You _nearly killed him!"

"Hesketh, take your pet," Sivin warned. "He bores me."

"Pet?!" John said, incredulously. "Pet! Ha! I am nobody's pet. I'm the Doctor!"

There was a sudden silence in the room. Nobody said a word for a moment, then Hesketh spoke up. "Yes, you are Dr. John Smith, here to help us with-"

But John had held a hand up to silence him, looking confused, like he was trying to puzzle something out. "I'm Dr. John Smith. The Doctor. The Doctor John Smith." He put his fingers to his temples and appeared to be in some kind of pain. "I'm John Smith… Dr. John Smith… Dr… I'm… the… _Doctor_!"

Hesketh had come up behind him and, quickly and efficiently, he pressed a hypo to the back of his neck and pressed the trigger. John dropped to his knees, instantly unconscious, and Hesketh caught him on the way down, laying him out carefully on his back. "I am sorry, my friend," he whispered. "Truly."

Overseer Torak had pulled out his personal comm unit and called the medical wing. "Increase the strength of the memory graft this time," he said to Dr. Florin on the other side of the channel, then growled out, "You promised me he wouldn't remember. Don't fail me again."


	9. Chapter 9

John Smith lay on the table in the medical center once again, with Overseer Torak, Hesketh, and Dr. Florin standing over him.

"Obviously the memory graft isn't taking," Florin said. "I am doing my best but every time his mind rejects the transplanted memories, the likelihood that we will be successful decreases."

"The stranger promised this would work," the Overseer said in response. "If we should discover that he was mistaken, we would be obligated to seek... retribution." He turned to Hesketh. "Are you sure you cannot complete the research without his assistance?"

"You saw what he could do, Overseer," Hesketh replied, bowing his head. "He is brilliant. His knowledge will most likely be necessary before the project is complete." The Overseer grunted and turned his attention back to Dr. Florin, about to ask the younger man something else, when Hesketh continued. "However, based on what we know of him... perhaps this deception is unnecessary?"

Torak growled menacingly in response. "How do you propose we secure his necessary assistance without it?"

Hesketh shuddered involuntarily under the piercing gaze of the Overssr. "We could... tell him the truth."

"If you were told that you had been kidnapped and forced to work for us, would you trust that we were legitimate?"

"No, Overseer."

"The same will be true of Mr. Smith. Beneath the facade of the man you have come to know beats the heart of a killer and a murderer. Do not forget that."

"Yes, Overseer."

"Dr. Florin. Is there any way to increase the strength of the memory graft? We have already had two such incidences now. A third will be most intolerable."

"His brain chemistry is unlike anything I have ever encountered before in my life," the doctor replied sighing and rubbing the bridge between his eyes. "I do not know what else I can do."

"Increase the strength of the psychotropics before you wake him," Torak replied.

"That may kill him" Florin said.

"Yes, it may. Or it may not. And if it does not, it will ensure there are no further incidents either way."

"The stranger informed us of what would happen if he died," Florin said. "I do not want to be here to see it. It sounds ghastly."

Hesketh wasn't done attempting to make his own point, either. "Overseer, please, I beg of you, don't follow through with this. At least give him a chance to help us of his own free will. There is nothing to preclude us from retrying the graft later. Please consider it."

But Torak refused to be swayed. "Continue the procedure, Dr. Florin," he said. "Let me know when it is complete. I wish to work with the prisoner directly upon his waking tonight."

"Are you sure that's-"

"I am sure," Torin said, leveling a growl at the doctor who had dared speak. "You have both made your attempt. Let me make it clear to him what his purpose is and what boundaries exist here. He will fall into line under my guidance."

The process was due to take several hours, during which John would be unconscious. "I will stay with him throughout the night," Hesketh said. "I am honor bound to do at least this much."

The others nodded silently and moved out of the lab, leaving the two of them with one another.

"Do not worry, my friend," Hesketh said softly into the man's ear. "I have a plan."

The next morning, the doctor had to move Hesketh out of the way in order to begin monitoring his patient. "I have increased the dosage of the psychotropics," Florin said as the Overseer arrived for the morning.. "Shall I wake him?"

"Go ahead," Torak said.

Florin injected John with something and within a few moments, he began to stir and blink his eyes open. "He is awake," Florin said.

"Hello," John said. "I'm... I'm not... not sure..."

The Doctor stormed off down towards the bunks he and Quinn had been assigned, positively fuming.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked, following closely behind him, and he spun on his heel, glaring at her.

"What's wrong is that you've volunteered me to help some madmen activate God knows what on the floor of the ocean."

"Well it seemed better than dying," she said.

"I don't have any idea how to do it," he replied. "I don't have any information on it. I guarantee whatever they've been doing is better than what I'll come up with."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You're always coming up with something clever at the last minute."

"I was," he corrected. "I don't know if I will have lost my touch."

"I don't think it's possible," she said.

"I hope you're right," he replied. "For all our sakes." He cracked a slight smile. "Why don't you go get us a spot in the mess?" he said. "I'll be along shortly. We'll get a bite to eat."

She smiled in return. "See you there."

He looked back to his bunk and picked up the things he'd left there - the psychic paper and the sonic screwdriver chief among them, along with a few other odds and ends Quinn had pulled out of the pinstriped jacket and insisted that he should have instead. "What would you do?" he asked, turning the silver tube over and over in his hands. He sighed. "No answer, eh? I'd have thought as much."

He tucked the device into his pocket and went off to meet the rest of the crew in the mess hall.

3


	10. Chapter 10

Quinn turned another watery spoonful of soup back into the bowl in front of her before pushing it away in disgust. It was too salty - she just couldn't manage to take more than a few bites. The sooner they got out of here, the happier she was going to be, guaranteed. She just wanted to get the TARDIS back - not quite as single-mindedly as the Doctor seemed to, but it at the top of her list of concerns, no doubt about it. The only way that was going to happen, it seemed, was for the Doctor to help the submarine crew accomplish whatever it was they were trying to do. Even then, she still wasn't 100% certain that they would help them get where they wanted to go, but at least it was a chance, and she'd take it in a heartbeat.

"Show me everything you've tried so far," the Doctor said, sitting down with Evan and Odell as they spread out a series of blueprints and technical diagrams all over the tables.

"We've tried hitting it with everything we can think of," Evan said.

"Everything we're capable of generating," Odell corrected.

Evan nodded. "And we've never come as close as we did when you arrived yesterday."

She sat a few tables away, not wanting to disturb them while they were working. This new Doctor didn't seem to be anywhere near as confident in his own genius as the old one was. Then again, she wasn't sure _she _was confident in it either. Something still seemed _off _about him, to say the least. He was at least working now, and she wasn't going to interrupt his train of thought if she could help it at all.

"How long is it between spontaneous events?"

"It's not a fixed time frame," Evan said.

"And you're sure you're not the cause of them?"

"They were happening for over a year before we were ever on site," Evan replied.

"Not likely then."

She hadn't really had a lot of time to think about it since they'd landed, but now that she was going over events in her head, the Doctor hadn't ever said - what was it he wanted to accomplish back on that planet? They'd left because his life was in danger, that certainly made sense, but… she was surprised that it hadn't required any further examination on their part. Where was his unbound curiosity when she would have expected to see it manifest the most?

If she was really honest, despite the fact that she was trying to be supportive and helpful, she missed the man she'd known before, the one who'd come out of nowhere and saved her from the very lowest point of her entire life, the one who'd saved all her friends' lives, who'd probably saved the whole city from destruction just because it was the right thing to do. He was still here. He was alive and well, and she should have been happy about that. So why was she mourning his loss as if he were dead and buried? OK, new face and all - that was weird. But at least it was the same guy behind it all. Right?

The Doctor was pouring over all the data from the artifact. "Wait a minute. Just show me the readings from the spontaneous events," he said.

"Uh, right, OK,' Odell said, typing a few commands into the laptop and turning it back around towards the Doctor.

"Now filter out the readings for anything that you've tried to do to activate the device," he said.

"Done," Odell said, then looked back up at the screen. "Oh…"

"What?" Evan asked, standing up and peering over the top of the laptop screen from above. "Oh."

"_Oh_, oh," Odell agreed.

"You can say that again," Evan said. Odell did. Nobody laughed.

"You are sure the time index is correct?" the Doctor asked.

"Yeah," Evan said, distractedly, still staring at the screen, then seemed to come to his sense. "Uh, checking. Yes. Double checking. _Triple _checking… still yes."

The three men were still staring slack-jawed at the monitor before them, nobody saying anything. Finally, Quinn sighed, hoisting herself up from the uncomfortable metal bench, and went to stand behind them. Nobody noticed her presence, so she cleared her throat, finally getting a quick glance from Evan. He didn't say a word, just gave a barely perceptible nod of acknowledgement, then went back to staring at the screen. Nobody was volunteering anything. Apparently she was going to have to take a more direct approach.

"So," she said. "What'd you find?"

"Huh?" Even asked, so she inclined her head towards the monitor and raised her eyebrows questioningly. "Oh, right, right," he said. "Basically, the Doctor's discovered that there's a minor discrepancy between the onset of the non-standard localized spatiometric distortions that's happening, and that-"

"English, please," she said, holding up a hand to stop him.

The Doctor turned around. "Whatever they're doing to try to activate the device themselves, it's not working," he said. "They're getting closer all the time to stabilizing it enough to finalize the activation, but none of the things they've tried are changing at the time the spontaneous events start."

"I don't get it."

"X-rays, for example," the Doctor said. "It's one of many things they've tried. But whenever the thing starts to activate itself, there's no increase in X-rays in the area."

Realization dawned on her. "So whatever they're doing isn't going to work, right? It never will?"

"No, no, no," the Doctor said. "I mean, well, yes, but that's not what's important."

"Then I still don't understand."

"We haven't been able to generate whatever's activating the artifact," Evan said. "And if we don't look at any of the metrics we've tried, there's no change in the immediate area whatsoever. So that means, either whatever is responsible for the activation isn't something we're capable of measuring whatsoever…" he trailed off.

"Or?" Quinn asked.

"Or it comes from _somewhere else_ entirely."

* * *

Hesketh was unusually quiet on the tram ride back to his home with Dr. Smith in tow. He didn't regret what he was doing, not after seeing the way the man was in action, the way he'd leaped into the fracas with no compunctions whatsoever about his own well being. He was certainly brave, compassionate, and with a ferocity in those few moments confronting Sivin that was terrifying to behold.

The unfortunate thing was, there was a very real chance that they were already on to his plan. The memory graft had already proved itself unreliable, so Dr. Smith would be under heavy monitoring - that included all the medical supplies assigned to his case. If the night orderly took inventory of all the vials like she was supposed to, then they had only a few hours before his deception would be discovered. He had to prepare before then. He gripped the phial he'd stolen in his pocket, reassuring himself that it was still there but not daring to take it out for fear that someone might see.

They kept a quick pace through the glass corridors outside the residential block, the sun once again setting over the barren, ruddy landscape that seemed to stretch on infinitely around them as far as the eye could see. John tried to engage him in conversation several times, but he barely responded, and finally the younger man gave up.

The door opened into Hesketh's living quarters. "Father! Mr. Smith!" Tenga said, beaming at them from across the room and running up to them for a hug. Hesketh ignored her, moving to get something from the kitchen.

"Hello, Tenga," John said, scooping her up into his lap in the hoverchair. Once again, he'd been dispatched from the medical wing in a chair with strict orders not to stand from it - not because it was a danger to him to walk, but so the scanners hidden in the back of the seat could analyze his brain patterns.

"Don't bother with her," Hesketh said. "She isn't important."

An uneasy silence fell over the room, Hesketh still browsing through compartments in the kitchen while John and his daughter looked on. "Why don't you go upstairs and-" John started, but the child had already stood and was approaching her father carefully, tentatively, clearly trying to hold back tears.

"What do you mean I'm… I'm not important?" she asked meekly. Hesketh continued to ignore her, completely engrossed in what he was doing.

After a few more moments of silence, John couldn't take it anymore. "Hesketh, your daughter…"

"She is _not _my daughter," he said with an air of finality.

"How can you say that…"

"She is only here for your benefit," Hesketh said, finding what he was looking for. He had a syringe that he'd slotted the phial of blue-ish liquid into.

"What?"

"Here, you will need this," Hesketh said, approaching him with the phial. "It is merely synaptic enhancer. Stand up."

"They told me if I did the alarms would…"

"I said, _stand up_," Hesketh replied sharply. "We have little time."

Slowly, tentatively, John stood, waiting for the sound of an alarm. Hesketh came closer, pressed the syringe to his neck. Granted, no needle was necessary - they'd use air pressure to deliver the medicine, but it was still intimidating. "Hesketh, whatever you're doing, don't. Stop, think it over, don't do anything you'll regret."

"I have already done what I regret," Hesketh said. "Now I am attempting to correct it."

"Father," Tenga said, still near tears. "Father, don't you care for me?"

"How can you ignore her cries?" John asked, still backing away.

"I told you, she is not my daughter."

"But…"

"She is not even real," Hesketh said, and in frustration at not being able to focus on the more important issues, he slid aside a compartment on the wall next to the door, turned a key, and Tenga disappeared. "She's just a hologram."

"What?" John asked. "What is this? What…"

Taking advantage of his confusion, he leaned over and gave Dr. Smith the injection of synaptic enhancer. "That will restore your memories shortly. Give it time."

"Hesketh, I don't understand," John said. "I'm Dr. John Smith, here on loan from a university to help with your experiment."

"No," Hesketh said. "You are the Doctor, and I am here to help you. Come. We must get out of here, quickly."

* * *

Quinn was sleeping peacefully when her arm shook slightly. She tucked it under her pillow and continued to sleep, not stirring in the least. She'd gotten used to sleeping with all sorts of strange movements happening lately.

"Quinn," a whispered voice hissed in her ear, but she just turned away.

The Doctor sighed, then gave her shoulder a heavy shove. Finally, she started awake, and he held his finger to his lips to indicate that silence was called for.

"What is it?" she drawled sleepily, her brain apparently debating whether she needed to get up and active or just roll over and go back to sleep.

"Come on," the Doctor said, "We've got to get out of here and back to the TARDIS. It's critically important. We've got to go now."

"How do we get back to it?"

"We do the only thing we can do," he replied. "We can take the ship with the two of us if we lock down the control room."

"It sounds like you're planning a coup," she said, still barely keeping her eyes open.

"Not a coup," he said. "Just a mutiny."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: This should clear a few things up! Look for even more explanation-y goodness next chapter.**

* * *

"Hesketh, what are you talking about?"

"Your memories will return shortly. Until then, I need you to trust me." He opened the door and leaned out slowly, looking down the corridor in both directions until he was satisfied that there wasn't anyone about. "Come with me," he said, inching out into the corridor.

"This is insane! Where are we going?"

"There are unpopulated areas on the outskirts of the transit system. We'll hide there."

"Hide from what?"

"Father?" a small voice called from behind them, and both men turned back to look into the quarters. Tenga stood in the center of the room, peering out at them.

"They have found us out," Hesketh said. "Quickly, we must go!" He shut the door between them and the little girl, and made his way down the corridor.

"What are you so worried about? I-" He ducked down and covered his head with his arms as a loud bang and a wave of heat washed over him, and when he turned back towards the door, a smouldering hole had burned its way through it.

Young Tenga looked at him through the hole, her eyes glowing an unnatural red color. "Father?" she asked again, and her eyes began to glow white hot once again. Hesketh grabbed his arm tightly and pulled him out of the way as an intense red blast shot from between the girl's eyes and slammed into the corridor across the way. Blackened, charred metal shards flew off in a thousand different directions, impacting against the walls, the floor, and filling the whole corridor with an acrid smoke that set John into a coughing fit as they ran. Hesketh supported him with his shoulder, over which one of the man's arms was draped.

"Now do you believe me?" he asked.

"It's becoming a more credible story," John replied.

"We have to get to the transit system," Hesketh said. "Quickly! Run!"

* * *

"A mutiny?" Quinn hissed.

"Hopefully not," the Doctor replied. "Hopefully we'll only need to take control for a little while. I can't imagine they've got the control room very well guarded."

"This is crazy," she said, looking over to Evan and Odell's beds to ensure they hadn't been roused by all the noise. They still seemed to be sleeping, and she wanted to keep it that way if at all possible. "We've never done anything like this!"

"We have to get out of here and back to the TARDIS," he replied. "And we don't have a lot of time to get that done. If we stay here, they're going to force me to help them activate that artifact, whatever it is, and if I refuse then they'll threaten to kill you to force me. But I cannot turn that thing on for them - it'd be the worst possible thing I could do."

"Why? Do you recognize it? Do you know what it is?"

"No," he said simply. "I've never seen anything like it before, but if it's really being triggered from somewhere else, some other planet or another time or maybe even another plane of existence, then we can't allow them a foothold into the Earth."

"And that's really all this is about?" she asked.

"Really," he said. "Honestly."

"Because you've been pretty single-minded lately about getting the TARDIS back, moreso than I've ever seen you before."

"Honestly, that's all there is to it," he said. "The world is not ready to fight off a series of invaders from who knows where streaming into the planet up from the depths of the ocean. It could be anything. We can't take the risk."

"So you think it's some kind of, what, doorway?"

"I'm not sure," he said in reply, "but it would make sense. Why else would the artifact need to be able to receive instructions from somewhere else? Why does it seem to activate itself even when there's no change in any reading here? It's probably getting its instructions from the other side."

"What are we going to do, then? What do we do to convince them not to just try it again with another sub after we've stopped this one?"

"After we're finished we'll track down whoever was responsible, whoever funded the mission to begin with," he said. "The captain seemed to indicate it was a private venture. We can stop the funding for any future expeditions of we have to. I can be very persuasive when I set my mind to it."

"You've got that right," she said, sighing and laying back down onto the cot. "You're sure this is what you want to do?"

"No," he said, "but it's what I need to do for the good of the planet."

"How do you know they won't figure it out without you?" He didn't say anything in response, just sat there staring at her, like he hadn't anticipated that question in a million years. "I... I don't..."

"Then we can't go, can we?"

He sighed and lowered his head into his hands. "I just want to get us somewhere safe," he confided.

She swung her legs over the side of the cot and sat next to him on the side of her bed. "I want that too, believe me," she said. "But since when do we run away from danger?"

He looked at her and smiled. "Since when indeed. I had... I forgot, I guess."

"Since you changed?"

He shook his head. "Since a long time ago. I'd forgotten what it was really like... the way things can happen out here and how helpless I can feel sometimes, but also how important it is that we keep on standing up for what's right. And you reminded me."

She returned the smile. "You did the same thing for me," she said. "It's hard to believe how much of a bitch I was."

"Don't say that."

"No, I was," she said. "I was on a real power trip, but that wasn't who I wanted to be, either. You reminded me of that."

"We must be good for each other or something," he said, and she hugged him around his neck.

"Something like that," she said. Neither of them said anything for a few moments, but then she pulled back and asked him, "So, how do we stop the crew from getting into something they don't understand?"

* * *

"What do you mean I'm 'the Doctor'?" John asked as he ran behind Hesketh down into one of the transit substations.

"That is who you are," Hesketh responded. "Your name."

"My name is Dr. John Smith, not just-"

"No. John Smith is the name the other man told us to give you. He said you would find it easier to respond to, that it carried meaning for you."

"What kind of meaning? Hesketh, this doesn't make any sense."

They didn't swipe their transit cards when they entered. John followed Hesketh's lead and bounded over the turnstile instead. It was just getting to the midpoint of the night shift by now, when the days would switch from one to the other, and there were only a few other people here, waiting for a train to come by. Nonetheless, Hesketh waited at the far opposite side of the platform, watching the other warily. None of them seemed to have taken notice of the two men hiding at the far end of the tracks, and he hoped it would stay that way. Any moment now the central authorities would release a bulletin describing the two men on the run from law enforcement, and then they'd really be in trouble. They had to get somewhere safe before then, somewhere away from the public eye where they could work in peace.

"I cannot discuss the details now," he told John. "Wait until we are on the train."

The tram didn't arrive as scheduled, but that was not unusual for this time of night. There was no reason to panic just yet, but he was prepared to take action if necessary. He wasn't sure exactly what action that would be, truthfully - if there was any kind of disturbance he'd brought no means to defend himself or John - the Doctor. Hopefully the synaptic enhancer would kick in soon. He'd already done his best to dilute the effects of the memory graft earlier when he was alone and unsupervised with the unconscious man. Hopefully his natural defenses combined with the neuralytic jumpstart would be enough to dispel the effects sooner. They'd certainly worked the last couple of times without any assistance from him whatsoever, so if luck was on his side he'd soon have an ally rather than a confused, frightened individual who he had to protect.

He leaned over the side of the platform and peered down the tunnel again, searching for an sign of the tram. It was pointless, of course - the squealing of the metal tracks would indicate its arrival long before he'd be able to see it anyway, and it clearly wasn't anywhere close based on that metric, but at least it was something to do to pass the time while they waited. And, in fact, it turned out to be a good thing that he'd checked, because if he hadn't been looking that way, down to the opposite end of the platform, he wouldn't have noticed the woman standing there, looking at her DigiComp. She was a young woman, no more than forty-three cycles, and she'd been totally engrossed in the device, listening to music or perhaps sending text messages to a friend, but now she was peering at the device intently, reading something apparently very interesting. She looked up, glanced around the transit hub, and then back down to the device, continuing to read whatever was on the small screen. She looked up again, looked right at Hesketh and the Doctor, and her eyes widened with surprise.

This was it, they'd been discovered. Their descriptions would be flooding across all the public channels - everyone's digital communication devices, news channels, everywhere. Their faces would be plastered all over the place and there wasn't anything he could do about it now. They had to get someplace where they wouldn't be spotted. The first step in doing that was to get away from here undetected. The woman had seen them, but hadn't run, hadn't screamed or done anything to draw attention to herself. That meant that either she was too scared to do anything, or she was already alerting the authorities via a quick comm call through the DigiComp. He couldn't afford to wait and find out. Now it was a question of how to handle the situation. He could threaten the girl, take the device from her and smash it on the ground, terrify her into silence, but that didn't seem like the right thing to do. In fact, it didn't seem like the sort of thing he could do at all. He was a scientist, not a commando, and somehow striking terror into the heart of an innocent person didn't seem like the sort of thing he could live with himself if he did. There was still no sign of the train coming, so perhaps they'd have to take drastic action instead.

"What is it?" John - the Doctor, he had to start using his proper name - asked.

"That woman over there has spotted us," Hesketh said slowly and levelly. "Don't look," he said when the Doctor started to turn to face her. "She'll alert the authorities to our location," he said.

"Maybe that's a good idea," the Doctor said, gripping Hesketh's shoulders and making him look directly at him. "If the authorities find us, they can get you - get us - the help we need."

"Do not patronize me, Doctor," Hesketh said, shoving the man's arms away. "I am not mad. I am quite sane, and I am trying desperately to get you out of here and to safety, back where you belong."

"I've seen the authorities on your world," the Doctor continued. "They're fair - just. I'm sure they'll listen to reason if-"

"Have you forgotten the smouldering hole in my door? The authorities do not wish to contain us. If they find us, we will be killed."

"But why? What have we done?"

"Nothing," Hesketh sighed. "They fear what we may plan to do."

The woman at the other side of the platform was still watching them. She still didn't seem to have done anything, but looks could be deceiving - there were any number of ways she could have called for help to this location without it being obvious from this distance. It would only take a few moments for the authorities to respond to her signal for help. The time for standing around doing nothing was over, Hesketh decided - time to get moving again.

"Come with me Doctor," he said, jumping down from the platform onto the cement that the train tracks ran along.

"Are you mad?" He asked, looking down at his friend on the tram tracks. "You're asking to get killed if you stay down there."

"You are asking to be killed if you remain there," Hesketh countered. "Have I ever given you cause to mistrust me?"

The Doctor considered. "No..." he said, unsure.

"Then trust me this last time. Come with me," He said, extending his hand. In the distance, up the stairs, a red light began to flash, and the sound of an alarm began to be audible. "They are coming. You must hurry. Make your choice!"

The Doctor looked around the platform one more time, hesitated, and then closed his eyes and jumped down with Hesketh. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he said.

"You have made the wisest decision," Hesketh said.

"Come along."

Together, they made their way into the darkened tram tunnel, all the light from the platform quickly fading away behind them. "So if we're going to continue on this way," the Doctor said, "then tell me what you know. Who is this 'Doctor' fellow?"

"He is you," Hesketh said. "John Smith is but an alias."

"So you came up with a new name for me?"

"No," Hesketh said. "The man who delivered you to us said it had a resonance for you."

"And who was that man?"

"A friend of yours, once. An old compatriot who has betrayed you, I fear."

"Who? What was his name?"

"Do you have any memory of the name Vislor Turlough?"


	12. Chapter 12

It wasn't often that he had to admit that he didn't have any idea what to do, but then again that had never been the kind of person he was. Vislor Turlough was a take-charge sort, the kind who believed the rules were for someone else, the kind who tried to command every situation he got himself into. He'd been exiled on this silly little planet once before and he didn't intend for it to happen again, not while there was still a chance of salvaging the situation.

That was exactly the situation he'd been in when he'd been saved the first time, all those years ago, by a strange man in a cricket uniform, as well as a foul-tempered Australian and a much kinder, more level-headed scientist. Tegan and Nyssa had taken a while to get used to his presence, but the Doctor had taken him on board with nary a thought.

Turlough had been a political prisoner, and then later an exile, from the planet Trion. He'd been posing as a student at a boarding school, living out his exile, when he'd been contacted by the Black Guardian, a being who promised to help him return to his home and family if only he would do something small for him in return... kill a man known as the Doctor.

It had seemed a simple enough assignment at the time, and he'd accepted it without much convincing. But something had started to happen the more time Turlough spent with the man - it was plain to see that he wasn't the terrible sort of person the Black Guardian had made him out to be. In fact, he'd shown himself to be compassionate, kind, brave... all qualities that Turlough lacked. And while it had taken quite some time, he'd eventually gotten into the good graces of the TARDIS crew of the time, and found himself accepting them as well. When it finally came down to it, he'd had the courage to do what was right, and what he should have done all along - he'd been given an opportunity to vanquish the Black Guardian instead of the Doctor, and he'd taken it.

After that, the'd gone their separate ways - Turlough returning to Trion and the Doctor going on to new adventures with Peri Brown. But the things he'd learned in that time had been incredible - both about himself and about the universe, and he'd been given an opportunity to see some pretty fantastic things as well. That kind of thing changed a person, and Turlough had done his best, he really had, to try to keep to the ideals he'd learned from the Doctor.

But now things were different. Now he had work to do, and there was nothing that was going to stand in his way - not the companion he'd inherited from this latest incarnation, not the captain or crew of some insignificant submarine, and not some alien device that had probably been placed in his way just to stop him. He had to get back to the TARDIS, that was all there was too it. He'd get back to it, he'd force it to let him in somehow - it'd rejected him once before but he'd learned his lesson. Once he got in there again, there'd be no forcing him out until he was damned well ready. Maybe it'd respond to the girl, he thought.

The Doctor had always had a fascination with Earth girls, but this one... well, things were getting a bit out of hand if you asked him. There had to be some point at which he was just robbing the cradle, and while he didn't know exactly how much the age gap had expanded between the Doctor and his traveling companion, he would guess that the chasm had widened over the years. A lot. Still, at least she might prove herself useful.

Or she might end up being the downfall of everything he was trying to achieve - that thought had crossed his mind as well. The thing was, after the distance of so much time, and of so much space, it was easier to justify what he needed to do to himself. There had been a time when his loyalty had been unwavering and absolute, when he would never have dreamed about betraying the trust of a man who'd grown to be proud of him and trust him, more than anyone else ever had. More than anyone else ever could. But now, with the benefit of several years' time between their last meeting and the present, it was easier, simpler to try to make what he was about to do alright in his head, like it wasn't going to matter all that much at all. But Quinn... Quinn was new to all this. In a lot of ways she was exactly the kind of person that he'd been at the time when the Doctor had first met him, all those years ago, and she seemed to be learning the same kinds of things that Turlough himself had - that doing something brave for someone else was better than saving your own skin, that taking the time to get to know someone and to understand their perspective was far more important to them than it was that you tried to change the political system where they lived. That the best of intentions often had very dire consequences for those on the sidelines of any given conflict, and that situations were not as cut and dried as they appeared to be at first glance. If he wasn't careful, this was going to start to weigh on his conscience pretty heavily, and then there wouldn't be anything he could do.

He couldn't allow himself to think things like that. He had to maintain his focus and stay the course, finish what had been started. That was important. And if it came down to it - if he really didn't have any other choice, then he'd eliminate anything - and anyone - who stood in his way. He hoped it wouldn't come down to that. He hated the idea of having to do anything he'd regret to anyone here - the captain of the sub, Evan or Odell, Mr. Hollins, even. And Quinn and the Doctor, most of all, were the ones he didn't want to have to hurt, but when it came down it, that was the one thing he wouldn't be able to avoid. They would be the real losers in all of this. They'd be stranded somewhere, locked down into one time and place, completely and utterly shipwrecked when they didn't have the TARDIS anymore. He'd at least insist they be taken someplace nice and left there, he thought. He wouldn't stand for having them stuck on the likes of the Pyth planet. Yes, that was what he would do, and he would feel better about it, and then maybe, someday, a few decades later, he'd visit, and everyone would be aright, they'd see. They'd be all there lined up in a row, ready to accept him and welcome him back with open arms, just like the people of Trion had when he'd been returned to them.

Turlough sighed. Who was he kidding? The Doctor would never forgive him for this, for stealing his TARDIS. He loved that TARDIS more than he loved himself, it seemed, more than he loved anyone or any planet or anything he'd ever seen. This would be like murdering the man's spouse. This was the kind of deep-seated betrayal that one never truly got over, and he knew it. He had at least tried to do something better, something that at least didn't betray one of his closest friends, but his trap hadn't been a success. For some reason, he wasn't attracting any Time Lord attention, no matter how much he threatened to allow the timeline to bend and, possibly, break. Nobody came through that star system or time zone, no other TARDIS so long as he searched for one actually manifested itself as a real, believable thing in the sky. For some reason, the Doctor's was the only one anymore.

Knowing that, he might have called the whole thing off, might have quit and refused to cooperate or facilitate, but by the time he knew that, it was far too late. He didn't have a choice - the stakes were too high, and he had come much too far to turn back now. There were people counting on him. And at least it wasn't like he was trying to kill anyone. Not this time. Not again.

He sighed again, standing up and flattening the seam of his pants. He had to talk to the captain, tell her he wasn't going to help with the project after all, and accept his punishment for it. If she tried to kill him, he'd fight his way out. It wouldn't have been the first time - at least he was prepared this time around. There was a chance to ready himself, to make sure he was totally groomed to see to anything that was thrown his way, whether it was interference from the crew of the sub or from those who were watching over his every move these days. But he had to do his best to keep the Doctor out of it.

If the Doctor got involved, it wasn't just that he would be betrayed, that'd he'd be disappointed and angry - oh no. Turlough had seen what happened to people who insisted on being opposed to the Doctor, and he didn't have any desire to be one of them himself. The device was a portal, he was pretty sure. It all made sense. How else would a device made of unfamiliar elements have found its way here, to the ocean of this planet? The change in temperature they had noticed could be energy output directly from the device, or it could be because of the conditions on the other side... either way, it made sense that the TARDIS would bring him here. It was trying to get back to the Doctor along the most direct route in 5-dimensional spacetime, and that didn't necessarily mean the point at which he'd been dropped off. As Turlough had tried to flee, the cursed machine had located him, the Doctor, or his potential to be here at some point in the future, and since it was just a short step away from where'd he'd been heading to where he was currently on the 5D axis, it'd taken control itself and brought them here instead. He'd have to have a long, long talk with it once he got back to it, convince it that what he was doing really was for the best of everyone. If he activated the portal, he was sure the Doctor would show up any time after that, ready to teach him a lesson for the betrayal he'd shown his old friend, and he would do anything and everything in his power to avoid that.

He made his way out to the control room, where he hoped to find the captain sitting, waiting, going over status reports and data from the night before. Instead she was joined by all three of the other men on the crew. "Great," he thought. "as if it'd be a crime for one thing to go right all day."

"Doctor," Evan greeted him with a quick wave, and he returned it. It had been easy to remember to respond to the name, fortunately enough.

"We've gone over everything you pointed out yesterday," Odell said. "We're increasing the sensitivity on the sensors, trying to see if we can't get a little more power out of them. If anything changes out there in the ocean when the next spontaneous event happens, we want to know about it."

"I'm impressed, Doctor," the captain said. "I didn't think you'd prove to be as helpful as you've been."

"Well, I try to please," he said, without any preamble. "It's actually funny you should mention that," he said.

"Why?" the captain asked warily.

"Because, I can't help you with this anymore. I can't and won't help you activate the device."

The walk to the brig with Mr. Hollins pistol shoved into his back was a most unpleasant experience.


End file.
